Frequency
by Vanessa S. Quest
Summary: Long-haul fanfic involving my OCs in the verse. All is not well in Denmark, the familial strife comes to a head- and GAIA has made a major move, only they grabbed the wrong kid? What's going on! Please R & R!
1. Chapter 1

Frequency by Vanessa S. Quest

1300 EST, September 10, Portland, ME – Quest Compound…

Inside the air-conditioned laboratory, Dr. Quest stared at several read-outs and kept making minute adjustments. The plasma orb smelled of coffee and raspberry, as the theoretical physics had suggested they would. He increased the output of coolant to be safe.

Stabilized at its size, Benton killed the generator and let the orb fizzle back into the steady-state in the room.

"It still needs refinement, but the values that put off are very promising." He dictated to his older son as he assisted.

"Very much so, Dr. Quest," Hadji awed, "Do you believe this will assist in shielding experiments?"

"With time, it very well may…"

"Incoming call, Dr. Quest." IRIS boomed.

Benton smiled, "My work is never done—" he said cheerily, "Hadji, where had your brother gotten off to?"

"I do not know, he had said he would spend the day with his _juvenile delinquent friends_ when I had asked."

"His _what_?" Benton asked, bemused at the youngest Quest's antics.

"I had said I was schedule to assist you in the lab, I believe he was making a joke."

"Incoming call – Dr. Quest." IRIS reminded.

"Go ahead, IRIS, accept the call…" As he gave the voice command a video file began streaming. "IRIS, is this a conference call?"

"No, Dr. Quest, the caller is streaming a video file. Shall I play it?"

"Before you do, I'd better figure out who's calling…"

"Ah, Dr. Quest, so good of you to pick up! We here at GAIA have been looking forward to your project's latest _updates_ …"

"IRIS, start recording, and tracing this." He commanded quietly, in a booming tone he addressed them, "I believe I've _already_ expressed my disinterest in working with your _organization_."

"Ah, but your son may convince you otherwise. Play the video-file, Dr. Quest."

The video cued. Hadji and Benton blinked in abject wonder at the image before them.

Clear as day, the blond-haired, blue eyed youth sat immobilized in a chair, rough hands pulling at the mop of short hair and tugging at the mock-turtleneck black t-shirt.

"Please introduce yourself to the camera."

"—Get off of me!" The boy's voice was a touch high, was he panicking? What was he seeing that they weren't?

"Your _name_ —"

"I told you assholes already, it's Jonny Clark—"

A slap echoed in the two adjoined rooms, " _If_ you keep insisting on this little charade I'll be forced to _prove_ your identity by _other_ means."

"Oh riiiiiiight, you need my _real_ name." The bravado was terrifying.

"Cooperate, or we can always escalate."

"It's Jonathon Go-Fuck-Yourself Clark. It's a _family_ name."

The strike was swift, straight in the ear, tilting Jonny's head back.

"Mr. Quest, hasn't your bodyguard taught you better? Foul language, pathetic attempts at subterfuge, and _worst still_ , to not just give the _easy_ information? My, how have you survived so long!"

"Just scrappy, I guess."

Another blow was felled, this to the lip.

"We can of course just take a sample, that'll confirm enough, won't it Dr. Quest?"

"You guys are going to feel _real_ bad when you've realized your mistake…"

"Not as badly as you'll feel. I hate phlebotomy but this _does_ require blood."

The teen spat the red at the man. "There ya go, sample submitted."

"Oh, that's an insufficient volume, I'm afraid." He brandished a knife.

They watched, horrified, as the knife sliced in at his bottom left rib.

"You son of a whore, you've deflated my _lung_ …" There was a struggling sound as the black shirt became sticky with blood. "I'm… going to… flay you alive… when I get outta this…"

The video ended. The caller continued, "Results came back, 13 identical alleles, AB-negative, your little spit-cracker isn't leaving much _time_ for you to work. We'll call back in an hour to hear your proposal."

Hadji pulled up the trace first while Dr. Quest called in Race.

"He is in New York City…"

"He's _what?!_ " Benton was furious, he'd _expressly_ forbade his son from going to that Broadway fieldtrip, precisely because of this active threat. "—You said you saw him this _morning_?"

The door creaked open.

"Hello…? Hadj? Dad? You still working…?"

Dumb-founded, the older Quests looked at Jonny. The boy had a patina of sweat, a mop of wet hair, and was drenched in river water.

"Jonny—what happened?!" Benton sprang.

"Oh, I fell in the creek trying to fish out the—woah! Dad! What's with the hands—"

Dr. Quest probed his ribcage, nothing—his golden tan a stark contrast to the pallid luster on the screen. "Why did you go to New York—I—"

"Dad! I didn't! I was taking a mountain bike ride and fell into the creek, what the heck is going on?!"

"I'd like to know that too." Race said, starting at the freeze-frame of Jonny, his chest bleeding, lung caving. Jonny gasped as he turned to see what Race was looking at.

"Is… this some sick prank?!" He approached the image, the likeness was uncanny. "Who photoshopped this?" He felt disgusted.

"This is a still from a video file…"

"…Well, apparently even your doppelgangers have awful luck."

-Frequency JQ-

After catching up to speed, Jonny sat in transfixed horror as he watched his likeness be assaulted. Race, on the other hand was taking notes.

"I'm calling this in to Bennett, and Korvin—that poor kid just got roped into wrong time, wrong place, wrong _face_."

"He even _sounds_ like me, swears way more, though…" Jonny said numbly.

"Let's look into a Jonny Clark—I'm sure his family is—"

"Benton, don't waste your time." Race said, "IRIS, connect Phil Korvin."

"Race, long time no chat…"

"Phil, are any of your wards AWOL?"

Phil clicked his tongue, "You know I wouldn't be at liberty to discuss that."

"A Jonathon Clark, looks uncannily like _our_ Jonny—the doc did a height/weight calculation, 5'7", a buck-fifteen, so a little taller and a little lighter, but…"

"The name doesn't ring a bell. Let me see the image?"

Benton's voice boomed, "We're sharing the video file."

As he listened, he paused then dragged to where the boy had been punched—a small scar was barely visible at his throat.

"I… need to make some calls."

"Phil, you know who this is?"

"They _said_ he had AB-negative blood, _and_ matched thirteen of my alleles." Dr. Quest relayed.

"They must be lying. Keep your noses down, we'll sort this out from here." Phil hung up.

"What in the hell was _that?!_ " Jonny said daftly, "I don't _ever_ remember him being so dismissive."

Race sighed, "…That kid's _definitely_ in his wheel-house."

"Why do you say that?" Dr. Quest asked, his own hunch there.

"The kid's scar—he recognized it. He _knows_ this kid. Also, that kid didn't bat an eye to talking about bodyguards _or_ think of giving up their name, like _that_ was the life-or-death piece…"

"And they have no idea what they've gotten mixed up with. This GAIA group is a deranged cult, and if _he_ thinks this _is_ some other threat…" Benton swept a hand down his beard and eyed his own son, still shell-shocked at the footage.

"Benton, we know they'll call back. Do we play along and buy this kid time or listen to Phil?"

"If Korvin would be so brazen as to throw this boy to the wolves, we _have_ to help."

"He's not throwing them to the wolves." Came a sudden, unexpected voice.

"Dr. Quest, visitor – Agent Bennett, authorization code—"

"We see him." Benton said, shocked.

Race's former 'boss,' with whom he kept clearance stood in the room.

"What in same hill is going on, Bennett?" Race asked.

"Phil called me, I was nearby and know how headstrong the lot of you are, so I swung by."

"Then read us in so we can help." Dr. Quest folded his arms.

"As he said, it's an internal matter. We can hardly risk your family's safety for another protection detail."

"But we're the only direct line, and that boy has _no_ idea what's…"

Bennett blew out a sigh, "With all _due_ respect, doctor, this may well be above even _your_ clearance."

"What about _mine_ , Bennett?" Race asked in a steely voice, crossing his arms. "Phil _knows_ him, and his eyes—when the Doc mentioned the blood…"

"The name they picked was… unfortunate, but I can assure you, GAIA doesn't stand a chance. Sit on back, let this play out." He gave a small shrug, "But if they contact you, pass on the intel, if you'd be so kind."

"That's not going to cut it and you know it, Bennett. You're here because this _has_ to be important…"

"Phil asked, as you said, he recognized the _scar_."

-Frequency JQ-

The phone was ringing again, off the hook. Darren grabbed it unsure of what the _hell_ his big brother was thinking. He'd been clear, he'd been _crystal_. Stealth mission, watch the kid, be back when he could…

"Finally! Darren—get your ass to NY—it's _bad_ …"

He dropped but caught his phone. "What is it?!" His anxiety was through the roof.

"Some asshole grabbed Venus— _thinks_ she's someone else—and as _she's_ thinking it's KGB, they're… _it's BAD_. Get here, we have intel to find her, a ransom was made."

"…Who do they think she _is,_ Phil?"

"A boy, Jonathon Quest, Darren… she looks _identical_ to him."

"Quest as in Doctor Pain In Your Ass Quest?"

"…I've never _called_ him that."

He shook his head, this was rich. "Some creep thinks my daughter's a blank check to a science rat's inventory, huh?"

"Yes. But they're dangerous—the Quests have _dealt_ with these threats, and this group will take counter-measures."

"Not as many as—"

"She _called_ herself Jonny Clark. They _think_ she's the right kid and they will literally torture her to get to Dr. Quest. She doesn't _know_ that. She'll think it's either her or _you_ they're after and do anything to _not_ cooperate…"

"How the hell did she get _snatched_ , Phil? And _why_ was she in disguise?"

He swallowed hard. "…Jenna made an attempt, Venus bugged out to the city. De got her squared at a safe-house and I've dealt with my daughter, but Venus didn't trust that. I don't blame her, but—"

"DAMN IT, PHIL! You _promised_ me…"

"And her _mother_ checked her out."

"Two hours. I'll be there in two hours."

-Frequency JQ-

IRIS played a new video.

"So, Mr. Quest, are you ready to ask your father's advice?"

The tired voice responded, "He'd tell _me_ … to tell _you_ to go fu—" the strike crossed their cheek, painting it red and pulsing. "…You had better be a fast runner… when I get outta here… your life's gonna… depend on it…"

"More bravado? And I'd heard you were a _survivor_."

"Well, you don't even know my _name_ … so let's go with… you don't know _shit_ about me…"

He grabbed at the mop of blond bangs.

"You really think… I'm that Quest guy, huh? Gonna burst your bubble… I'm not _any_ guy…"

"Oh, so your DNA just _happens_ to match? That's _some_ coincidence."

"Or you're an idiot… who did it wrong… guess what my money's on?"

"You _are_ trying, aren't you?" He cupped the extended jaw, "If this _is_ mistaken identity, what's your name? Are you his illegitimate bastard?"

"I'm legitimately a bastard alright… You'll see that soon enough…" came the rasp.

"Why not just _ask_ your dad, save yourself some pain."

"Ask for _what_ exactly?" Her eyes darkened. He really didn't get it, _he_ was a _she_ , and sure as hell not whatever luck S.O.B. this creep _thought_ he had. "A pony? A car? A Remington pump-action…?"

He slid the knife toward her side, "For his help and cooperation."

"Oh, I don't _need that_ at all… I'll be _just_ fine."

The knife slicked through, she winced, shook her head. As she did so, a long tendril of hair fell from her coifed 'do.

"Huh, so you really _are_ a girl…"

Her eyes narrowed, she hoped he hadn't nicked her hepatic artery or vein for that matter.

"How old are you?"

"Sorry, you're not my type." She gristled.

"My, should I chop your leg and count the rings?"

With a dark laugh she forced out, "You _try_ it… I'm going to feed you your own eyes…" Growling, she was realizing just how much blood she'd lost by now. Staying awake was becoming difficult.

"Don't you want your dad to save you, hm?"

"Nah… I'd never live _that_ down…" She taunted, "We won't be giving… you anything except… a quick end…"

"How old are you? He yanked her hair back, "What's your birthday?"

"Aw, I don't need any presents… but thanks for asking…"

He exposed her neck as he pulled her hair further back, whispering into her ear, "I _could_ play very dirty, young lady…"

Her eyes narrowed to slits, "And I'll feed you _that_ too…"

He walked out of the room, leaving the camera on. Venus looked back and forth, still working on her binds.

"Damn… is this a warehouse…?" She muttered to herself. "C'mon… _c'mon_ …" the rope made a snap sound, she smirked darkly.

Standing proved difficult, she ripped at the compression panel that released her chest. " _Finally_ …" She took a deeper breath before chancing a few steps. The exertion was too much though, she fainted, out cold.

The video cut off.

Benton looked between the screen and his son. It wasn't possible. It wasn't god damned _possible_ …

"…Dad?" Jonny asked, seemed to see what his dad was thinking, "You _didn't_ really cheat on—"

"Of course _not_!" He softened his tone, "…But your mom _did_ have another baby… a _stillborn_."

"But you said mom and you tried everything for years and years to even have _me_?"

"IVF. What finally worked was IVF. They implant multiple embryos…"

"I… have a _twin_?"

He let out a breath, "It looks like it."

"…Dad, if she was _stillborn_ why would she _need_ protection?" He caught eyes with Hadji, both launched to their laptops as they started a birth record search.

Race gave the boys a strangled look. "Holy guacamole, kid… does _that_ say _Kiers_?"

"Yeah, it does… A-positive, September 18th, born to one Viktor and Ana Kiers…"

"…" He looked at Benton, "I've _met_ her. _That's_ why she's being mums… her parents, the Kiers that is, they were assassinated by the KGB, they were diplomats that the Kremlin post-cold-war was convinced were spies."

"So she thinks they'd trade her? Why would she be worried if the KGB already _killed_ her parents though…?"

"Because she was the federal witness to their guy, it was a _huge_ PR disaster and a good part of why they imploded on an international stage. A cute little 2 year old fingered the three perps with cooperating security footage nearby…"

"She's a ward of Intelligence One?"

"No. She's _not_ , that's what's strange. As I said, I've _met_ her. I babysat her for 2 months while Phil scrambled to arrange real witness protection, some marshall—De Hallofield or Hawkins… something like that, she replaced me. She said Intelligence One looks after its own, but kids of spooks, nah, they fall right back into the foster system. _Diplomats'_ kids though? Those kids get rushed to some critical adoptions or extended family, real brain trust stuff."

"And you're sure they _weren't_ spies?"

"If they were in-house, as young as she was? She'd have been shuffled into Alpha 1, not witness protection."

"…What's that? I've never heard of Alpha One?" Benton asked.

Race looked at Bennett, fairly certain he was about to lose some of that sec-clear himself.

Bennett dialed Phil. "Korvin here."

"…We found out who they are, does 'Venus Kiers' mean anything to you?"

Phil glowered, "She wouldn't have _possibly_ said her name."

"Oh, she didn't. Dr. Quest's _boys_ routed it out… by looking at Jonny's hospital records and _then_ other records, same day."

"No. You're goddamned wrong."

"Phil, who the hell is this girl? You _obviously_ know something more than what you're telling us."

"She's the diplomats' kid, the _witness_ …"

" _Phil_ stop messing around, she's unconscious in a warehouse bleedin' to death and _still_ sassing them…"

"She's unconscious?" He sounded dazed, "…I have to make a call. _Which_ warehouse?"

"Address is…"

-Frequency JQ-

Venus took a sharp breath, naptime over. That asshole had put her back in the chair, retied her hands, but also patched her side, but _not_ her lung.

Running on half-caf like this was _awful_.

She looked at the camera, unsure who he was sending this to. Venus started back on her ropes.

"Oh, up and at it already? How industrious of you."

Venus glared at the masked man, he looked like a lame pro-wrestler… except his frame was far too slight for the role. She hated to look so disheveled and was quite angry to have it captured for posterity.

"Dr. Quest wanted to ask you something."

"Sorry, I can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep—"

"Venus?"

Her eyes shot wide, her pupil shrank to pin-pricks.

"Is your name Venus Ki—Venus?"

"Oh, winner-winner chicken dinne." He laughed, "Called your exes, or…?"

Venus pressed against the ropes urgently, _now_ she was worried.

"My name is Doctor Benton Quest, Venus. Venus, Phil's _working_ on it."

"…Uncle Phil?" Her voice lilted, small.

Dr. Quest and Race glared at Bennett, balked.

" _Uncle?_ "

"…Wow, I _really_ feel bad for you guys now. My dad's going to be _pisssssssssed_ … I was only half-kidding about _flaying_ you." She smiled obstinently, forced a small laugh. Venus toed off her sneakers, the one-inch lifts were well-overdue for a break. "So, Dr. Quest, when'd my uncle get involved, anyway? I'd love to know how much longer _someone'll_ be keeping me waiting."

She stretched her calves.

Jonny was in awe of her bluster, she even put _his_ to shame.

The man watched her legs flex as she kept on the ropes.

"Since the first call."

"Oh, I took a _nap_ , in hours if you'd please."

"Four."

She smiled, "Oh goodness, that's been _plenty long enough_ …" She launched a kick that landed hard into the man's hip, she heard a crack. Venus stood, woozy all the same, took a strong grip of the chair as she sucked in a breath and swung it hard into the man's ear and chintzy mask before taking a knee to gasp.

"You here, then?" She called quietly.

The crack of gunfire echoed, Venus held the damaged chair. There were several bwap-bwap-bwaps of rapid, controlled shots.

She took the phone, "Please tell Uncle Phil my ride's gotten here. He's a boy scout worry-wart." She hung up, turned off the camera.

-Frequency JQ-

When Darren had gotten to the warehouse and run his own recon he'd realized there'd been seven of them, though only one was upstairs where he'd seen his girl.

Her hair was a hot mess, he was sure _that_ put her in a mood, as if being _stabbed_ wasn't enough of a reason for it. The armed lackies buzzed about the ground floor like it was any other day in the office until one spotted him and sent a round.

His draw was smooth and quick, firing his pistol in rapid succession he folded the six employs on the first floor – one, two, headshot, advance, continuing until he was the last man standing.

He switched his extended magazine and took the stairs, now down to half a clip. He finished at the upstairs by emptying his clip into the asshole who stabbed his _princess_ …

"Took you long enough…" Venus sat down hard, she undid her hair to reveal the shoulder-length inverse bob.

"You look like hell." He pet her cheek, "What's this damsel in distress bullshit about, anyway?"

She frowned, held her side over her deflated lung. "Shut up and save me already… can't a girl get a good rescue in… once a blue moon…"

He didn't like how hoarse her voice was. "My pleasure," he kneeled down and took out a pen and bottle of water he'd procured.

"…You're really going to…?"

"Yeah, sorry, it's going to suck." She nodded, he disassembled the pen, cracked open the bottle of water and squeezed some out then left the cap loose. He stabbed the pen shaft into the bottom of the bottle, pulled it out and plugged it with his finger, then came the fun part. He pressed the pen shaft in hard, below the stab wound, and sucked it like a straw to start drawing negative pressure before reinserting it into the bottle of water.

Red cascaded upward as the pressure on her lung reduced, she felt it begin to reflate.

"…I hear sirens…"

"Yeah, well, big brother's a boy-scout worry-wart so…"

She smiled at him, "Did I mess up your work?"

"Fughettaboudit. That's not on you."

She blinked to accept that point, fading fast in her exhaustion, "Some strangers… they knew my name…"

"The Quests?" Her head bobbed, "Phil said that was going to be a cluster fuck."

She leaned her head against his arm, "I really do have bad luck…"

"Just remember, the only thing consistent about your life is that cursed ancient amulet—why _do_ you even have that, anyway." He joked.

"…Why's'it a cluster fuck…?" She said, straining to keep awake, eyelashes already falling to half-lidded.

"I don't know yet, you look spent princess. Take a power nap."

"…Okay." She said, already more than half-way there.

-Frequency JQ-

Inside a large bedroom in a white colonial at Millbrook, NY, Venus opened her eyes, reacquainting to her home.

Dark espresso furniture neatly paired with crisp white satin sheets and a quilted lavender blanket.

In oversized pajamas, which buttoned down the front, she sat up gingerly. Her pajama bottoms were shorts, and the fuzzy, warm socks she preferred whenever it was cold.

"You dug out the winter wardrobe?" She asked her dad as he sat in a bedroom vigil next to her.

"Yeah, well, blood loss… you get _cold_."

"How much _did_ I lose?"

He shrugged, "They gave you two units. Listen, sweetie… Phil's outside. We have _guests_ … this… it's a lot to take in. I want you to try to take a breath and know I'm _not_ going anywhere. You got that?"

She blinked, "Why _would_ you go anywhere?"

"I _wouldn't_." Darren pet her face as it soured on him, she forced herself upright.

"I'm on a _lot_ of painkillers, huh…?"

"Yeah, you are. Need a hand?"

Slowly she shook her head, "These guests, they outside?"

He nodded, "They are." He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder anyway.

"Are they in the study or the living room?"

"My study, I figured you didn't need to hit the stairs."

"Much appreciated, that." She leaned in deeper to the hug.

Darren slowly creaked the door open to the study as Phil Korvin, Race, Dr. Quest, Jonny, Hadji, and Jessie were spaced in the room. Jonny studied the various books and art on the walls while Hadji and Jessie looked at various maps under Phil's watchful eye.

Race sat on the sofa, reflective, while Dr. Quest—similarly to Jonny—absorbed the ambience of the room.

Questions like what kind of life she'd led thus far, what her interests were, her values, _who_ she was—all stemmed to clues in this room and others like it in this house.

"Phil, we're coming in." Darren announced.

Benton and Race stood out of politeness.

Darren gave Phil a look.

"Allow me to introduce you, Dr. Quest, this is my baby brother, Darren." Darren gave his older brother a dirty look.

"Nice to make your acquaintance Mr. Korvin—"

"—Kiers, actually." He smiled in full show, "That nonsense that men can't change their last names is archaic."

Venus smiled weakly, hugged her dad a little closer.

"And this is Venus, Venus—say hello?" Phil asked cordially.

She looked at her uncle and the large gathering of people, "Hello…" She crooked her ankle in a mild plié.

"And this is—"

"Roger, I remember." She shrugged.

"I go by Race, but Roger Bannon's the name…" He said evenly.

She looked at Jonny, "I take it you're Jonny not-Clark Quest?" She crossed her arms.

"…Yeah." He said, his eyes honed on hers.

"And you two?" She eyed the other kids in the room in growing disdain.

"Hadji, my adopted brother, and Jessie—Race's daughter."

Venus smiled, "Right, he said something about a daughter…" She recalled, "so is this some wellness check? No flowers?"

"…" Benton steeled himself, "Venus, we found your medical records while trying to find out who GAIA kidnapped…"

Darren cut in, "Princess, these people helped _find_ you."

She uncrossed her arms at that. "Oh good, I'll put them on the x-mas card list… Now if you'll excuse me…"

"We have reason to believe you were switched at birth. You're not really a Kiers." Benton said in a stoic calm.

"Oh, his blood test? I'm A-positive. He was wrong, and so are you. I'm 100% Kiers."

"Sweetie…" Darren said soothingly, "…That bit about your blood-type… it's _technically_ not accurate."

She turned to look at him, gobstruck.

"You _are_ AB-negative." He watched her eyes grow, "We've known for about 5 years… when you cut your arm."

"…" She looked at him in annoyance, " _Dad_ …"

"…You know the rumors about Ana as well as anyone. I didn't _tell_ you because… well, it only would've hurt your feelings."

Jonny turned toward him, "How would that hurt her feelings?"

" _Daddy_ …?" She whispered, "…then Viktor… she really _did_ cheat on him?"

Darren kept a constant hand on her arm, "Well, that's what I'd _thought_ happened… I mean, Ana worked off her back. And you know how she sent Aurora to live with her _friend_ …"

"…But I _look_ like Viktor…"

"You _also_ look like me, and that one over there." He thumbed to Jonny.

"Viktor _wasn't_ my father…?"

Darren squeezed her a little closer, "He lived every day of his life with you _knowing_ he was, princess. Don't go doubting on that. We don't do revisionist history, you're no Mao."

She nodded to herself, he bopped the tip of her nose for good measure.

Dr. Quest folded his hands, studying their behavior, mannerisms.

Darren pulled out his office chair one-handed and guided her down. "Here, sweetie, take a seat. You're sweating sheets."

Before she could object, he was behind her, hands on her shoulders as a show of constance. She looked up at the brunette, "Why are they _here_ , dad?"

Dr. Quest cleared his throat, "As I had said, we'd realized you were switched at—"

Sharp eyes cut across the room to glare him down, "I wasn't talking to you, Dr. Quest. Please forgive me, as I am in a substantial amount of pain and don't feel up to coddling your ego, but I was conferring with _my_ _father_ , Darren Kiers. You've met him, now." The heat behind her eyes was a tight balance between trying to be diplomatic and caustic.

"I don't know either, so we might as well hear them out. Don't worry though, my brother isn't stupid enough to bring someone into _our_ house to make demands. He knows my track record with shooting terrorists." He smiled; Phil slid a hand down his face.

This was off to such a great start.

"We'd like to confirm it, to actually run a paternity test." Dr. Quest continued, ignoring both of their brutish responses, though his own anger was quickly mounting.

"Oh, in _that_ case—since you've asked _so_ nicely… No." Venus said harshly. Phil's cross expression pierced her.

"Venus, why are you acting like this? You're normally such a sweet, amicable, _thoughtful_ girl…"

"Uncle Phil, don't be unfair. I've _just_ had a blood transfusion, these are blood or saliva tests, neither of which do I feel the need to consent to. Or do you not think I'm entitled my own autonomy?"

"…You look _so_ much like my mom…" Jonny said quietly.

"Yeah? Why isn't Carol Brady here then? Divorce? Or does she not give a shit?"

Jonny clenched his jaw and fists. "Son, sit down please." Benton said soothingly, the boy obliged now sandwiched between Race and his father.

"My wife is deceased. And you do take after her, both of you do." He added that last part to Jonny, brushing his arm.

"Venus," Darren whispered suggestively, "If you're not up to this…"

"…When'd that happen?" She asked mildly.

"Almost nine years ago." Jonny said in a hoarse whisper, "She was murdered in front of me when I was 6."

Her eyebrows shrugged. He cleared his throat, "Mom was really amazing, charming, smart, _fun_ —but an introvert. What're your parents like?" Jonny smiled toward her.

Darren's hands squeezed hard into her shoulders unintentionally. Steely blue eyes cut through the room at the older Korvin brother.

"It's just my dad and me. He's the confirmed bachelor type."

"So you never knew your mom?" Jonny continued, not seeing her eyes well.

"If this is a pissing contest for sob stories, let me just say—I'm not in the _mood_. My dad and I are _perfectly_ happy and have a great thing going. Thanks for caring that your doppelganger got home safe. I'll remember not to use 'John' as an alias going forward, cool?"

"Why did you need an alias?" Race asked, "Why the disguise? Is someone after you again?"

"Uncle Phil, that's _your_ dirty laundry, you air it if you want…" Her voice softened, "I'm sure dad'll love to hear _all about it_."

He let out a wanton sigh, "…My daughter and my niece do not have a healthy relationship."

"That's a goddamned understatement." Darren hissed, kneading away the tension in his daughter's shoulders, the topic a stressful one for the whole family.

"Daddy, I'm _fine_ …" Venus whispered.

"No, you're _not_." He retorted dryly.

"Jenna is unstable, she has severe health issues and an obsession with Venus, she's tried to kill her on several occasions."

"…She believes she's supposed to be in _this_ life, that Venus is a body-snatcher. She dresses like her, changes her hair to look like her, adopts my niece's mannerisms, and _if_ when she's in such a fit she _sees_ Venus, she tries to replace her. It's a severe paranoid schizoid disorder, and her mother and I keep her in a state of the art facility, but on occasion my _ex-wife_ checks her out to visit."

Darren's jaw ceased, Claire was such a goddamned bitch.

"She did that while I was watching my niece, and Jenna came over because she wanted to surprise me. It sparked an episode, Venus luckily had an escape route but no idea where she could muster to."

"Jenna was following me before Uncle Phil and Aunt Claire could find her… and it's not safe for me when dad's pursuing certain leads to just be out and about, so I did a gender-swap to get under radar, hopped a bus and got somewhere crowded. I knew where there was a safe-house I could use in the city, if I could just _get_ to it… and well, then _this_ happened."

"Did she hurt you?" Darren asked in a deep voice.

Venus looked toward him, "Not like the time with the screwdriver… I was _faster_ this time."

Dr. Quest locked onto the x-shaped scar on the underside of her jaw.

"She tried to kill you by severing your carotid?"

"…" Venus turned to look at him, "Well, she _missed_."

Hadji and Jessie were looking at each other, suspicious.

"How'd she _miss_?" Jessie asked, pointing at the scar's proximal location.

"I _moved_ , do you Quests just _let_ people stab you in the throats?" She asked heatedly, "Damn it, why are we even _talking_ about any of this? You're barking up the wrong tree. That little threat was liquidated, thanks, but we're good. Now please just get _out_."

"Your _legal_ _guardian_ left you in a highly unsafe environment as your sole temporary housing?" Benton asked dubiously.

Darren's eyes sharpened to blades, "Asshole, her adoption is _air-tight_ , I have protected her and loved her since she came into my _life_ , how _dare_ you insinuate—"

"Darren!" Phil barked.

"Fuck you, Phil! Who the hell is _this_ bastard to come in and question _me?_ Was _he_ just elbow deep in Ivans who'd love nothing more than to kill _my princess_? Shit, he couldn't even keep those Green Peace ecoterrorist incels from trying to grab _his_ kid, _twice_. Acting like I don't put _her_ best interest first and foremost… she's _my daughter_ , asshole! Now get your stuck-up ass off _my_ goddamned couch and out of here."

Benton rose, anger eclipsing his own patience.

"Your idea of _best interest_ is for her to be _alone_ , _unsupervised_ in the very city her supposed birth parents were _murdered_ as a backup to—"

Race grabbed Benton's wrist, "Doc, we can't take back some words. I think it's best if we honor his wishes and head out."

Phil tried to manage an appreciative smile, but it was taut. Venus blinked at the yelling adults.

Darren _rarely_ yelled, but he'd been close to decking the man.

"…You were working _that_ case… _Dad!_ Why'd you _lie_ about that?!"

He growled, "Not _now_ , princess."

"No! That's _not_ what _we_ agreed! You _promised_ —hard truths, _no_ lies, _no_ secrets, not on important things!" Her eyes were watering. "What if they'd _actually killed you_?! You jerk!" She stood up from the chair, teetered.

Without care of time or place, she gave him a heated glare, "You don't even _get it_ do you?!"

"Princess, sit down…" His tone was authoritative.

"No." She backed toward the door, she pointed angrily, "You _promised_. What the hell am I supposed to do if you go off and get _killed?!_ Becky's _dead_ , you're doing this nihilistic bullshit as a means to _vent_."

"— _Sweetie_ , I'm _not_ …" he pleaded.

"Do you even _care_ if I go through _that_ , _again_?"

"Damn it, that's _not_ —"

The room was in silent rapture as the drama unfolded, the volley back and forth. She shoved past the few people standing between she and the door, no one foolish enough to stop her.

Darren, thoroughly admonished, looked at the faces of shocked strangers. "Get out of my house. Phil, you're an _ass_."

"Explain what she meant, who's Becky?"

Darren glared at the older redhead, "Go fuck _your_ wife." He left the room, slamming the door.

He made fast steps to close the distance between his daughter and himself, getting to her closed bedroom door. He pushed gently on the door.

"Sweetie…" The resistance made him kneel down, she was bracing the door, he could hear her sobbing. "Let me in, sweetie, _please_ …"

"Why'd you lie?! You said your case was about that asshole Allen—" she sniffled, "—and you went _alone_ , after _them_?!"

"It's not like that, it was Olekski's buddies… I _had to_ go in with a shovel. I _can't_ just let them be. I _can't_."

"But you _lied_. To _me_."

"I'm sorry, I'm an asshole," he softened, "Please let me in princess," he leaned heavily into the door to try to move it.

"No." She sniffled, "Partners aren't supposed to lie to each other, you make _me_ say all those things, talk about my feelings, then you go and…" she hiccupped.

"I'll tell you, I _will_." He pressed gently on the door, "But you know I'm bullheaded, I wasn't trying to force you about Becky… I was just scared you'd… well, _you know_."

"…Excuse me," Jonny said softly. "Was Becky your wife or someone similar?"

"He doesn't _believe_ in marriage." Venus bit bitterly through the door. "That was his live in girlfriend…" she swiped her eyes, "She's been around for almost 4 years, until she died."

Jonny sat next to the door, his back against in, like a confessional, ad listening. "So when did you lose _your_ mom?"

"Earlier this year…" Venus glowered. He nodded. "She was killed in a wreck."

"Listen, kid… I'd appreciate a moment with my daughter if you don't mind." Darren said in a weak surrender.

"Oh sure, _now_ you do, huh?!" Venus hissed, "Now that you put your foot in it…"

"I used to get really mad at my dad, too." Jonny interrupted, "You know why?"

"Probably cuz he's an asshole." Venus supplied in monotone.

Jonny laughed, "No comment," he cleared his throat, "No, it was because I was really, really mad at myself and even a little at mom… and, well, he was the easier target. If I yelled at _him_ for not being fast enough, I didn't have to admit I was mad at _mom_ for not surviving. For protecting _me_ even though she _knew she'd_ die for it."

Venus swallowed thickly.

"Damn it." Darren growled, sliding up, "Princess, I'll leave this one here, I'm taking a walk." He said glumly, he returned toward the study getting ready for that crow dinner.

-Frequency JQ-

Darren gave Benton a contentious look, the other man shot arrows with his eyes.

"I've got no issue admitting freely that I'm an asshole. Becs was always good at being amicable… fucking therapists could keep you talking… we weren't married but we should'uh been." He sighed, "She died in January this year."

Benton's jaw unlocked. At least he could sympathize. "Is Jonny talking to her?"

"Yeah, figured I'd leave them be."

Benton nodded.

"Hadji, Jessie, let me give you a tour." Phil said conspiratorially.

"I hear your brother's got a Z3. Any upgrades?" Race said, also excusing himself.

"I dunno, we can take a _look_."

Darren cast is eyes toward Phil, "Yeah, you can tour the house, but you _touch my car_ and I'll bury you _both_."

"Uh-huh, baby brother's _protective_ in nature, _and_ possessive." The room emptied out to the two men.

"She's a _really_ good kid. Everything you'd hope for in a daughter, you know? Except for being shit-for-luck…"

"Family trait," Benton said thinly.

"I _won't_ give up custody. No court in the world would side to switch her back, so please—don't do that to _us_." He considered, "I have _lots_ of political favors and money I can throw at it, but it'd hurt her—every time she's in the lime-light there're dangerous people, you think you know, but you _don't_."

"I don't want to _take_ her, we want to _know_ her. Our family isn't without risks, and it _is_ hard to see them in danger because of it…"

Darren sighed, "You a bourbon man?"

"Tonight, I can be."

He poured two glasses, "To cluster fucks." Benton eyed him but clinked glasses anyway.

"…I know a bit about you Quests, not a _lot_ , mind you… but you're brand famous."

"Then tell me about yourself?"

"Nah, I _can't_ do that. Benton, mind if I call you Benton?"

He shrugged, "No skin off my nose."

"Well, then. She'll never be free from the red curtain. Your family, your dangers—you can _negotiate_ those away. Fight them back, not hers. They don't want some new tech, or to avenge their hubris, they want her _dead_. They want their man out, which won't happen with a living witness. The _want_ to topple our hold as a world power, and they aren't the only friends we've made along the way. Please, if you put her in center stage all it does is make it harder to keep her safe." He sipped at the bourbon.

Benton did the same, "The kids aren't in the spotlight, they travel with me sure, but usually it's about the next big thing… if she _is_ my daughter, and I know you realize she is—and I also mean genetically, it's clear you raised and love her, it's… well it's _wrong_ to keep her from her family."

"All _due_ respect, I _am_ her family."

"Yes, you _are_. But so is my son who's talking to her to calm her down, so am I, Hadji—he's also adopted. We make sure he _regularly_ visits his mother. Just let her know who they _are_."

Darren brushed back his bangs. "I won't risk her feeling abandoned. She's gone through enough shit already."

Benton shrugged, "Then come too. Visit our home, we'll visit here—and maybe we'll find some happy medium."

"…Yeah, we Kiers' don't really go by the _means_."

Dr. Quest smiled, "Oh? Common ground already?"

Darren shrugged.

"What are her hobbies, interests?"

Darren laughed darkly to himself, "Small arms, drills, going to museums, languages… she also likes to tinker a bit. She's _smart_. Tests at the top percentile on the regular."

"What does she tinker in?" He listened, absorbing it all.

"Anything but my car or my coffee… programmed the cameras to have some added features, relay signaling, I've replaced 17 fan motors from various 'experiments' she's done to spring-load glitter bombs, add heating elements—literally, she just likes to take it apart and modify it. Sometimes it's to be bratty. The glitter was a gee-dee nightmare. It's the fourth thing I've ever _grounded_ her for."

Benton laughed, "You mean in a month, or…?"

"…In her life. She's a damn good kid, as I said."

"What were the other three times?"

He smirked, "Lying twice, and one time was her lashing out—which she didn't deserve getting yelled at for. The only other times were sneaking out, safety reasons for _that_ being frowned upon."

"Lying _twice_?"

He sighed, "When she was 5 she got hurt, awfully. She lied about it trying to minimize it so she could _help_ , yeah, she got in _deep_ trouble for that one."

Benton gave him an asking look.

"Ah, shit…" He sighed, reached into his desk. "You probably know about as much about the Kiers as I know about _you_ personally. The trial transcripts… I keep them so a certain asshole will get his _shot_."

He looked at the capital punishment verdict, sentenced to death—Olekski—for the car bombing and subsequent murder of three people, two counts witness tampering, an attempted murder.

"He made some really awful friends, they tried to kill her—a few times, he's _likeable_ that way. After I'd _just_ adopted her, ink still drying, he was trying a last ditch effort to keep off death row. He figured no witness or victim impact statement, that it'd make it much more manageable. They smacked her around in a bank robbery, she had really bad internal bleeding and failed to mention getting stomped on the chest. The dislocated should? Came straight away to dismiss that, too… she was grounded for three weeks, about the length it took her to recover anyway. I'm a total push-over with her."

"The other?"

He sighed, miserably, "When Jenna tried to kill her, she tried to downplay it—she'd gotten locked into a trunk for two days before I found her, only to find out her cousin had been ramping up all week. Trying to _switch_ out like I of all people wouldn't fucking notice… I grounded her from space camp. She was so black and blue she couldn't have gone anyway. So your kid's a troublemaker, then?"

Benton shrugged, sipped his glass. "Absolutely. I only punish him so he has to _reflect_ about just how insane his stunts get… he's a _really_ sweet, wonderful boy. He's clever but he _dares_ authority figures, often at inopportune times."

"HA! Well, I'm keeping reigns over her disciplinary actions then… that one would try the patience of mountains if _that's_ your criteria."

"Oh, it gets better. I often make him write a report on complete a project to either justify his actions or realize why they were bullheaded."

"…She's shoot you. I mean, she'd also probably do the paperwork and convince you… why are we trusting both of them together unsupervised, then?"

"We Quests live adventurously."

-Frequency JQ-

Jonny looked at the large bedroom, "Is this Becky?" He asked while holding a worn photo of a green-eyed, tan blond with a healthy smile, Venus and Darren—Venus on Darren's shoulders at a theme park he didn't recognize.

"Mhmm, Universal Studios Tokyo. We went there after… well, after dad got back from a _long_ trip." She glossed over.

"…Did that hurt?" He pointed at his own side to signal her bandaged one.

"Getting stabbed? Of course it hurt, but I've had worse. Truthfully, I only got worried when I realized I was losing too much blood."

He laughed and asked incredulously, "Not the whole getting kidnapped thing?"

She shrugged.

"I'm usually nervous when I get cordoned off _alone_. That's when the worst stuff happens." He shuttered, thinking back to several particularly violent moments in his life. "Being trapped into a hermetically sealed room like I was buried alive- _that_ was really bad, but so was having my nails avulsed and almost drowning…" He swallowed a lump, "or getting grabbed near my family—and knowing if I screamed _they'd_ get hurt or roped in… I think that might actually be _the_ worst."

Venus sat up on her bed, tired.

"The worst is when you can't get help… when it's a trap and they're using you as bait. Dad's a ham, so he'll play it up and it gets to be terrifying—not because I don't trust him, but because I have to bide time and he takes such _stupid_ risks… it's that calculation of 'what do I need to do to not bleed to death if he gets shot for running his mouth?'"

"Oh wow, that's probably what Race and my dad have to do every time some creep grabs _me_. 'x distance at y speed over fluid loss average divided by time equals 20 minutes until he gets to the ER if he runs his mouth again, or something."

Venus giggled, leaning into the soft bed. "So they suck at patching you up in the field?"

"Oh no, they're _really_ good at first, second, and even tertiary care—I'm just better at running my mouth."

"But you're so good at _surviving_ …" Venus gibed.

"My dad almost had a coronary infarction thinking I dropped that many swears. He'd have field-dressed my mouth with _soap_."

Venus shrugged, "He'd've lost fingers if he tried." Jonny eyed her, she seemed serious. "Why did you really come here?" Venus asked after a long moment.

"…To meet you. Wouldn't you be curious if you'd seen _me_ just walk by?"

"…Probably, I guess."

"Did you want to know more about me?" He asked casually.

"Yeah, do you like your family?"

His hand stretched to his ear, scratching his hair behind it, "I think most people like their families, Venus."

She looked down, "…I mean, are they _nice to you_? Most people are _nice_ to my dad, but not to me unless they're _my_ friends… but dad, he's really, really, really nice. He spoils me and puts up with all sorts of things—even when I'm moody… but he's also embarrassing. He gets matchy-match outfits and makes me wear them when _he's_ being clingy."

"What do you do when _you're_ clingy?" He asked quietly. She blushed, pointed to her stuffed rabbit.

"I usually just carry around Mr. Cottontail if dad's away for too long… I don't think I'm very clingy though."

He grinned lopsided, "You both seem close. Dad isn't like that with me, I just get lectures or stuck helping him in the lab… or pranking him in the lab if he hasn't come out in a while, I dunno. It's different with Jessie in the mix. Hadji and I had a thing going, but that third… it makes it weird sometimes."

"You mean odd man out?" Jonny shrugged. "Are you self-conscious about your dad then?"

He smiled at her, "Probably, _I guess_. I'm not the studious, smart one, or the teacher's pet… dad gets along with the others really well and kinda gives them lots of attention whereas I'm usually just up to my own devices."

"You get jealous then?"

"Maybe, I don't _think_ I do, per se."

"…I worry dad'll realize I'm not _really_ his kid and that he just doesn't have to deal with it…" she dusted her hands off, "Call it quits. You know? That's why he tries so hard with those hideously cutesy outfits—like he's making it _clear_ we're a set."

"That's cool, in a _completely_ lame way. I dunno, being adopted is like you were _picked_ —being born into it… it's like 'well, you're stuck with the outcome.'"

"Unless you're a hamster."

"Huh?" Jonny asked.

"…They eat their young, especially if stressed."

Jonny cackled at that, "Well, yeah, _not_ a hamster. I'd've been gone years ago if that were the case."

She crossed her arms, "So he _isn't_ nice?"

"No! No- he really is… it's just… well, _I've_ always felt like I was the one switched. I mean, mom—I never felt that way with her, but I'm _so_ different from dad… maybe I just guess he'd be happier with someone like you. You're smart, brave too… and stubborn… you have dad's temper— _that's_ for sure."

She frowned not a fan of the comparison. "…Why were you looking at the paintings in the study?"

"I've never seen a _live_ painting by Maurice Hathaway. Plus your room, you also have some contemporary greats—it's really cool. Dad's not big into the arts."

"…Hathaway doesn't sign the painting face. How'd you know it was _his_?"

Jonny blushed, "Stylistically, I guess."

"…I think you're smart." She said flatly, "I think you're just not a scientist, or at least not a hard scientist, maybe a people-focused kind like poli-sci or anthropology, or maybe even biology?"

"Those _are_ some of my favorites."

"Do you have a cell phone? Can I give you my number? I think you're really cool."

Jonny smiled, "I think you are too. Do you think you'd be able to visit my place? I'd love to show you around."

"…Maybe, I'd have to ask dad."

"I'd love to show you my room, and mom's pictures. I hope you can."

-Frequency JQ-

A soft knock on the door signaled Darren's return. "Princess, mind if I come in now?"

"No, that's okay." Venus called back as she slid up in the bed. "Dad, I gave Jonny my cellphone number."

"Really? That's great, you two getting along then?" She nodded. Darren extended his hand to the boy, "Darren."

Jonny shook the offered hand, "Jonny-Not-Clark."

Darren cracked half a laugh and a smirk, "He is pretty funny, huh?" Venus nodded emphatically. "You look spent, sweetie. I think it's lights out."

She frowned, "Can they stay over so I can talk more with Jonny?"

"I have to think about it."

"Venus told me how you two go on daddy-daughter dates and how you're really good at DDR but awful at karaoke—"

"Nuh-uh! I said he's a _ham_ at karaoke! He's still good at it." Venus corrected. Darren shot her an appreciative, soft smile.

"Yeah, we can't really go play laser tag though, crushes too many vets' dreams."

"Huh?" Jonny asked confused.

"They try to blossom formation sweep and I snipe them for high-scores _anyway_."

"—Military veterans, I think _that_ was what he didn't get, sweetie." Darren said in a sing-song tone.

"Ohhh…"

"Yeah, you really need to sleep it off," he sat on the corner of her bed and pet her cheek. "Tell me about what you and _your_ dad are like—what do you two do?"

Jonny shrugged, "Travel, mostly. Dad's work keeps him busy and we go on a lot of trips for research or conferences."

"That's fun." Darren measured, "But what do _you_ and he do to just, y'know, hang out?"

Jonny looked across the room trying to think, "Hadj and Jess help him in the lab…"

Darren gave him a concerned look, "So, is that what _you_ do too?"

"Not really, I'm not big into engineering."

Darren licked his lips, "Do you camp or go to concerts or dinners? Like what does he do with only you that's your special time together?"

Jonny laughed, "Oh, something only he and I do together? That's easy, he _lectures_ me. Dad keeps pretty busy and our interests aren't really intersecting. He gets bored if I talk about the stuff I like too much." Jonny blinked awkwardly.

He… hadn't really realized that before, but that _was_ true, he always found himself compromising to shared interests instead of _his_ interests, especially so now that Jessie _and_ Hadji were always around. He cleared his throat.

"Race is really cool, he shows me a lot of neat stuff."

Darren looked over the kid, "…Yeah, that's trust-formation and survival skills, for the most part."

"Not particularly. Yeah the _judo_ was, but the other stuff like how to fish for salmon or practice German, I think he does that when I look bored or lonely."

"He's a decent guy, Phil likes him." Darren nodded, felt hollow for having to say it though. "Pointe-blanc—is your dad as egocentric as he reads?"

Jonny looked down, "He's not a mean person, but, yeah… he gets off into his own world _a lot_."

Darren blew out a sigh. "I'm headed outside for a smoke, that one might be faking that she's asleep but she's wide awake. Wanna chat on the balcony?"

"Sure. Good night, Venus. Even if we don't stay over, I'll call you."

"Okay… g'night!" Venus responded.

Darren held the door for Jonny then killed the lights in his daughter's room. "So what do _you_ like?" He asked once they were outside, he glanced into the lawn, he could see the lights from the kitchen suggesting where the others were.

"A few things, language, culture, rules of law- politics and how it affects places… diplomacy is really cool when you think about what it strives to do."

"Yeah? I wouldn't've pegged you for a poli-sci type."

"…No one does." He shrugged, immune to the sting.

"You struck me more as the legal type, you know—legal and economic policy."

Jonny beamed, "Really?! No one's ever picked up on that…"

"Don't they ask?" He eyed the teen, "Like at school—don't they have career days and make you write a report or some shit?"

He shook his head, "If I _don't_ write about NASA or some other _impressive_ topic, well… I mean you've met my dad. They want my dreams to match _his_ opinion."

"That's awful, why the hell would you compromise on _that_?"

"Home-schooled until last year, I got really good at reporting what my teachers wanted to read." He shoved his hands into his pockets.

"…Damn."

"I think you two are really cool. I especially like that you're both really, really close. It's no fun feeling unwanted…"

"Jeez, you are breaking my heart. You already have _my_ permission to stay over, but laying it on thick like that… you know it's only _half-truths_ right?"

"Half-truths?"

"Yeah, when you're working to negotiate—you don't say the subconscious full-truths. You _have_ to guard the vitals."

Jonny blushed.

"… _Shit_ , you really _are_ good at it though." He laughed, "Ya manipulative little scamp."

Jonny laughed, "I didn't think we _were_ negotiating anything?"

"Bullshit. You're _always_ in negotiations, or you're losing."

Somberly, Jonny nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Jonny, why's your dad really being pissy anyway?"

He sighed, "Because someone dared to not fawn all over him when he was ready to dole out attention. Didn't you see that when she cut him off when she addressed _you_?"

Darren frowned, "Oh, I was just confirming it. Damn, Phil never said your dad was a grade A—never mind. Let me whip up dinner and feed you damned house invaders, then we'll figure out a plan of action."

The boy shrugged, "You really don't have to, I don't really know what dad'll want to do."

"Self-flagellate about how unhealthy my cooking is and how wonderful _his_ recipes are, probably."

"Oh no, _definitely_ not that, dad would burn water unless it was to extract some HPLC curve."

"Well, then, there's hope."

-Frequency JQ-

Phil and Race eyed Darren as Darren returned the dubious looks. Licking his canine tooth, he tugged on his blue and white striped apron.

"I wasn't thinking I'd be cooking for a large group but luckily for you guys I picked up the supplies for some good old comfort food."

"What're you making? Want a hand?" Phil asked, he saw exactly what the plan was—rolled pasta, red sauce, meats and _maybe_ stuffed or filled ravioli or cavaletti.

"Phil, you aren't _touching_ my knives, but you can roll out the pasta. Venus likes ravioli so I'll stick with that. Want the press or the stamp?"

"Press, big group."

He nodded, "Wise choice. Race, where's Benton hiding with the kids?"

"Well, you drank him under the table, so somewhere dim. He's probably hearing about the house tour from Jessie and Hadji."

"…And Jonny?" He asked conspicuously.

"Knowing him, he's busy exploring since he missed out earlier. I could call him back?"

"Nah, he can look around. Venus is resting, you boys know how painkillers are."

"Taking two like that… that hurts like the Dickens." Race agreed sympathetically.

Darren eyed Phil, laying on the guilt. "She still hasn't even told me how she got grabbed, Phil. Any ideas?" He said in veiled threats while chopping up the garlic.

"Don't be like that, you've had eyes on her since she was found, I _know_ I should've done better."

"Claire's a grade-A bitch, Phil."

"Cordially took that title in the divorce, too, but Jenna _is_ my daughter and wants to see me sometimes, _and_ Claire always thought we were just overreacting about their childhood _rivalry_."

The knife caught in the wood cutting board.

" _Overreacting?!_ " He glared, "That's the _third_ time we _know about_ where she tried to kill her!"

Phil looked down. "I didn't _say_ I agreed with her, now _did I_?"

"She tried to _garrote_ her." Darren fumed.

"And Claire saw enough where maybe now she'll understand just why we _both_ need to be notified when Jenna is on a day pass."

Race let out a low whistle, " _That's_ what she did?"

"Yeah, so she couldn't scream for help, like my kid would ever _ask_ for help." He said sourly.

"How'd you find that out?"

"By looking at her, she was using make-up to cover the bruising, it's also why she used the Clark sob story…"

"…Sob story?"

Darren rolled his eyes, "You didn't see the medi-lert bracelet? We got it at an estate sale years ago, if she's pale, it's easier to explain 'sick kid' then 'injured kid with PTSD' to keep people away, so a kid with peanut-allergies instead became her cover story of a kid recovering from chemo so people won't _touch her_."

Race nodded thoughtfully, "If you bought that bracelet, that kid probably _did_ die."

"Yeah, we joke about it being an ancient, cursed object, a lot actually. But he could've just also gotten a new one when his phone number changed, too."

Phil smiled wantonly. "Will she be joining us for dinner?"

"No, I don't want her taking the stairs like that. She can't even feel that she _has_ legs."

"I'd like to dine with her upstairs then, if you'll oblige. I do owe her an apology, and as you said – would like to know how she got picked up."

"Keep it under 30. She really needs to sleep it off."

Phil agreed, "Check in at time?"

"…No, I don't want to overwhelm her, besides, you're good with dealing with PTSD when it crops up. I'm still pissed at you, but I _do_ trust you, bro."

"No small thanks for miracles." Phil acknowledged.

"You might well be bringing up Jonny's dinner too, FYI." Darren rolled his neck, "'Exploring the house' my ass."

"I'll shoo him along, all the same. I'm sure he's behaving but I dp want to talk to her in earnest."

"I don't fully agree. They're taking well to each other. She might not mind him hearing it. Ask her, you know she'll make the call she'll live by."

"If you insist."

-Frequency JQ-

Pasta dropped into the seasoned water, Darren scooped out a medium bowl's worth, a small bowl's work, and another medium bowl's worth then affixed a healthy portion of sauce and meatballs to each.

"Phil, I'll get the tray set, she'll probably want sparkling water, I can't see her being very hungry right now…"

"If she wants more, I'll just bring it up later."

They nodded, Darren added three cups, two shot glasses of a red-tan syrup and a 1-litre of sparkling water.

"Cream soda." Phil nodded.

Plated and covered, he carried the tray up the stairs while Darren pulled out the dishes. "Try to be a gracious host, baby brother."

"Bite me, Phil." Darren responded, "Race, you want to round up the others?"

"Sure."

As the dinner table filled up with Hadji, Jessie, a quasi-drunk Dr. Quest, Race, and himself—Darren made a casual, "Jonny and Phil went upstairs to eat with Venus, I figured no one would mind."

Benton shirked, "It'll give us time to talk about that."

Darren smiled at the challenge issued. "This is homemade Naples-style Italian ravioli and meatballs, bon appétit."

As they served portions, Darren set to work on after-meal espresso and a pot for tea. "I have water, soda, or juice—milk too. Who's drinking what?"

"May I help, Mr. Kiers?" Jessie asked politely.

"Sure, thanks. All the drinks are in the fridge, except the flat water, that's in the garage."

Hadji also moved to assist, carrying over glasses from the table to fill.

Darren and the small entourage returned to the dining room, serving tray of coffee and tea, espresso shots, cream and sugar on his, the kids carrying three glasses each, themselves.

They set the drinks out with sparkling water for Dr. Quest, Darren, and Hadji, a cola for Race, and Jessie had a glass of flat water and milk for herself.

"So… as it is a Friday evening, you're welcome to stay the weekend. My daughter's not going to be up for travel for a bit, but maybe we can do weekends on a schedule—one month here, one month at your place—alternate it. I'd like her here for Halloween and Christmas, but we can do Thanksgiving with your family _there_ if that's amicable."

"By weekends, do you mean each?"

"No. I mean two weekends a month we'll visit or your family can visit. I'm not carting off all her activities into Monday through Friday."

Hadji looked at him perplexed, "Activities?"

"You know, dance lessons, chorus, orchestra, martial arts, sculpting— _lessons_."

"Is that not a part of her school?" He asked again.

"Not all of them. That didn't even hit her school sports or clubs, and she has those trips too, so that's a whole other matter for coordinating, I _do_ have most of those dates already though." He pulled out his pocket planner.

"Most of our activities are travel related, conferences, dinners—the kids' educational vocations keep into Monday through Friday." Benton said evenly.

"…Well, his triathlon won't, he has _that_ second one coming up." Race reminded.

"Or summer camps, but by then we'd likely have a rhythm."

Dr. Quest added. "We're fortunate that they have shared interests, so it cuts down on the back and forth—except Jonny's triathlon of course."

Darren's eyes focused on that, "Because it has a different drop off area for the runners?"

"No, we have a conference, so Race will drop him off for that, usually our activities are _family_ focused."

"Uh-huh." Darren smiled knives as he took a bite of his dinner. Phil understuffed the damn ravioli, he thought to himself in annoyance. "My girl's run the gauntlet, but that's no triathlon. Pretty impressive for a freshly minted 14 year old to do _that_."

"The gauntlet?" Jessie asked.

"No, a triathlon. The gauntlet has a junior division for those into artillery clubs and the like, but Venus does do the adult level course. It's longer, and she's nationally ranked."

"Interesting." Benton said in a disinterested voice.

"She was on a group science fair project that won regional for the age group, I wouldn't let her take that further though, what with all the press."

Benton smiled, "What was their topic?"

"GMO root networks and water retention per soil types versus non-GMO root networks by soil type."

"We were in a robotics club and space camp for the last few years." Jessie chimed.

"Really? How was that?" Darren asked sweetly.

"Space camp was really awesome, we even got to do drag calculations for a prototype!"

He nodded along, "What kind of robots did you work on?"

"Our team worked on a deep-sea floor navigation bot last year, and the year before that was the transmitter drone that pairs with it for depth check."

"Jonny really was proud of the repeater he built." Benton added. "He's very mechanically apt, spatially too. They picked up the design for a project to map the sea floor."

"And Hadji's wench design was super light-weight!" Jessie added in filler.

"What about you? Did any of your designs get picked up?" He asked.

"Not in Robotics Camp, but Space Camp did. Jonny modified mine too much." She frowned, annoyed by it.

As dinner carried on, Darren offered seconds, anything to get rid of these subpar ravioli.

-Frequency JQ-

"Venus, I've brought dinner and a guest." Phil knocked. Jonny opened the door for him. The lights were still dimmed. "Are you still asleep?"

Groggily, she edged into a seated position, "Uncle Phil? Jonny?"

"That's us. You don't mind us boys invading, do you?"

"It's okay, if dad said so." She caveated.

Phil smiled, he put a gentle, warm hand on her shoulder, "We brought up dinner. Are you hungry?"

She shrugged, "Not really."

"That's no good, baby brother made one of your _favorites_ …"

Frown laden, she eyed her uncle, "…Are you here to ask me stuff or to _tell_ me stuff?"

"Both, unfortunately, but you do need to eat, so he won't worry."

" _Dad's_ not a worry-wart." She reminded, "Jonny, you can sit on the bed if you want."

Phil smiled at the kids, "I'm definitely in the doghouse, huh?"

She eyed her uncle, "Not particularly, but you like to look at me when talking. So ask away."

He nodded, "Venus, how'd they pick you up?"

She diverted her eyes, "Oh, on _that_ first thing, huh?"

"Afraid so."

Sighing, she looked at him, "My focus was shot. I was too busy looking for _her_ instead of _any_ active threat. I headed to Broadway, saw some school-aged kids and ducked into the periphery. Then some vendor asked me something about a souvenir—I wasn't interested, but then they crowded me in. _Then_ they shoved me into the stall and out the back… One of them had a sleep spray and by time I woke up I was pretty sure I was hosed."

"Did they ask you anything? Say anything specific?"

"Not there, but when I came to they asked my name. I told them it was Jonny Clark, that I was visiting from Lancaster, PA to see a show… and well, they didn't buy it."

"I see… why Lancaster?"

"That school was from Portland, if I _was_ targeted from _that_ saying so seemed like a bad idea."

Venus opened the bowl, "Ravioli? Why'd he use the press?"

"Big crowd," Phil mentioned.

She frowned, "They look under-stuffed."

"Well try it before you complain, little lady."

"Oh, you helped? Sorry. You said _dad_ cooked."

"He did, I just helped."

Venus's eyebrows darted up, she took a brow-fallen bite, "It tastes right, at least. Just not filled enough."

"Are you kidding? These taste great." Jonny said, eating through half his bowl.

Venus smiled at him, "If you want the rest of mine, my stomach's not feeling up for the challenge."

He looked at her, then Phil.

Phil nodded, "If she's _not_ hungry, she's not."

"…Okay, thanks."

"Uncle Phil, what were you going to _tell_ me, then?"

"That I'm very sorry. I didn't know Claire was going to check Jenna out, or I'd have spirited you away before it happened. How's your throat?"

"…Fine."

"Don't lie, please." He said affectless.

"I'm on painkillers, it _is_ fine right now."

"Alright, alright, I surrender. Forgive me?"

He shoulders slumped, "I don't _blame_ you, Uncle Phil. As you said, Aunt Claire took Jenna out. Jenna tried to hurt me… that's not _your_ apology."

"Well, I want to apologize on Jenna's behalf. She doesn't know any better."

Venus glared. "Oh she knows _exactly_ what she's—if you're apologizing for _her_ , no. It's _not_ accepted and never will be."

"Venus…" he said softly, that stung.

" _No_." She sat up straightly, winced. "She does it on purpose. Whether she thinks it's okay or not doesn't matter to me. She always tries to hurt me. I _don't_ forgive her, so don't ask me to! If she _really_ wanted to apologize, that'd be different, but _she_ doesn't, so I _won't_ forgive her."

"Alright, message received. But I _am_ sorry you felt unsafe with _me_."

"…That wasn't your fault though."

"I'm still sorry."

"Fine," Venus sighed, "I accept your apology, but it's not exactly an action. It's words. And you know platitudes aren't platforms."

"I accept that. I'll work on something, okay?"

"…Okay… can you take these out? I don't want food in my room."

"Drink your water and take your medicine first."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay… but only if Jonny can stay longer. I want to talk with him."

"For a little bit."

She nodded, Phil policed the tray and headed back downstairs.

Jonny sat next to Venus on the bed. "Dinner was really good…"

She shrugged, "My stomach's too unsettled, it's too heavy for painkillers."

He nodded, "So your dad said we could stay all weekend, if dad's okay with it."

"Really?! Great!" Venus conked her head onto Jonny's shoulder. "Alex and Ian are at the boarding school since dad wasn't due back yet."

"Are they your friends?"

"Yeah, during the school year they live in the house with us… and on weekends they live with their handlers."

"Handlers?"

"Well, yeah—Alpha One… we _all_ have handlers…"

Jonny looked at her in confusion. "They're in protective custody too?"

"…No?" She looked at him equally perplexed, "No, we're in _training_."

"…Training for Alpha One…"

"No, we're _in_ Alpha One. _We're_ juniors, you have to train up to be a senior agent like daddy or the others."

"You're a _federal agent_? Like Race is?"

"A junior one, yeah." She shrugged, "We get _way_ less case work, most of its small missions—gather intel, be unobtrusive, get in, get out… not details like protection missions, we're not _bodyguards_."

"…How long've you been going that?"

She shrugged, "I don't really remember when I switched into the program, since it wasn't really different from all my safety activities, but I've been on missions since I was seven."

Jonny nodded silently.

"Halloween's coming up—are you going to visit for it? We could go trick or treating!"

"Oh… yeah, I'll ask. Maybe we could do a group costume? Wanna be a kid from the Village of the Damned with me?" He smiled.

"That'd be funny… Last year we were all puns—I was a sand-witch, Alex was a cereal killer, and Ian was eyes scream."

"That's pretty funny. I've been 'a scientist' for 5 years. It's so annoying."

"Oh, daddy makes _sure_ Halloween's a big deal. We went as the Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood—I was the wolf. Then one year I went as Dr. Frankenstein and he was the monster… we went as the Three Musketeers—Ian, Alex, and I did… and then dad and Becky went as the candy-bars because we wouldn't let them dress like us. Two years ago we went as the Secret Service."

Jonny smiled, "That sounds like fun. I'm just glad I didn't have to draw on a beard."

"Why not go as 'something went awry in the lab'? Like those B-rate movies from the 50s and 60s?"

"He won't let me," Jonny shrugged.

Venus closed her eyes, "That's stupid. My dad would let you do any costume… Halloween's for pretend after all…"

"You falling asleep? I could leave, hit the lights?"

"No way! I… wanna…" she yawned, "talk more… you're fun to talk to…"

"It's nice to feel listened to, I'll give you that." He smiled, "Alright, well, nap and when you wake up we'll talk more."

"…Okay…" She said half asleep.

-Frequency JQ-

"There you are. Come on, she needs her rest Jonny." Benton lectured. Jonny rolled his eyes.

"She _is_ resting, dad. You don't need to yell."

"Get out of her _bed_ , Jonny." He tried another way, "You do understand _that_ is inappropriate, don't you?"

Jonny gave the older man a withered look. "She's my _sister_ , dad. I'm just sitting with her."

Benton rubbed a hand down his face, "So you _don't_ understand—you've _just_ found out you're related, that's not the same – and it doesn't matter, she's injured. You could hurt her, or do you also not grasp that?"

He looked at the older man impatiently, realized his dad was going to be stubborn on this point and _probably_ wake her up in the process. "Yeah, yeah. I'm getting up." He tilted her head, "Careful, my dad's here, I have to get up." He whispered.

She mumbled a groan as she shifted to the vacated warm spot.

He walked to his dad, though he wasn't in the mood for this. With a peaceable smile, he reminded himself how ambassadors often had to deal with unruly, upset people. This was just _practice_.

"So can we stay this weekend?"

"I'm not sure about that. We're incredibly busy as the lab."

Jonny suppressed an annoyed sigh.

"Well, could _I_ stay then? It's not like I _get_ your project and you did say I _could_ go to New York after the threat was under wraps."

Dr. Quest gave him a hurt look, "Who said it _is_?"

"…The 6 o'clock news, when they reported on them being wiped out."

"Young man, I don't know where this _tone_ is coming from but it's certainly not helping sway my opinion!"

"Oh come _on_ , dad! _You_ flew us out here—were you really planning to only be here for a few hours?! I want to get a chance to know her."

"And we will, but it's not an instantaneous _switch_."

"A switch? It's _not_ a switch, she has a great life here, she's not going to just jump into being a _Quest_ if you let her know all nicely that she _can_ be."

"Don't be _obtuse_ , I meant it's not a relationship you build like a flick of a light."

Jonny's jaw clenched, "That's three now."

"Three _what,_ young man? Of you back-talking?" Dr. Quest smiled, "Did you finally realize what you're saying?"

Eyes flinted, Jonny gave his father a dark look, "And that's four. Stop treating me like you think I'm mildly retarded. _I_ , personally, want to stay. If you're too busy, _go_. I'm sure we can coordinate a ride or I can get a connecting flight, I _want_ to talk to them. They're really nice, they _listen_ to each other and are respectful. It's a breath of fresh air."

"Apologize!" Dr. Quest hissed.

"No, I have nothing to apologize for! I'm tired of you thinking it's always your way or the highway. I don't always _have_ to go with the flow, dad! I _want_ to get to know _my_ sister, I don't have homework to finish, I can train for the triathlon here, _I_ have no reason to rush home. If you're too busy for yet _another_ kid—fine, go."

"I have _always_ made time for you kids! _And_ support your little interests!"

Jonny clicked his tongue, "My _little_ interests." He sighed, "is that because it's not one of the things that interests you too?"

"This is about how we were double-booked for your triathlon, again?"

"That and career day, and any of the innumerable _other_ activities that _we_ couldn't do because _you_ didn't want to schedule or worry about."

"Career day? What about it?" Benton was trying to reel in his frustration, he reminded himself that teenagers did this boundary-pushing BS on occasion. "Where we look at schools your abysmal grades won't qualify you for? _That_ career day?"

"A 3.8 in High Honors is _not_ uncompetitive, dad."

"Only if you're expecting me to personally call Stanford to _ask_ they take you!"

"I don't want to _GO_ to your alma mater! I don't want to go to _your_ top five—I don't want to _be_ a scientist… Do you even know _what_ I want to be?!" Jonny's face contorted painfully at the thought.

"Well, an accomplished pain in the ass, certainly, is in your grasps."

Jonny grit his teeth, shook his head. "You won't even put up a real guess."

"Oh come off it, a robotic engineer." He bit in terse response.

"No, I don't. I'm just _good_ at that, I'm not _interested_ in it." Jonny turned around, his back to his dad to steal a breath. He was going to have it out. With his dad, in a house he's never been to prior to today, diplomacy fail!

"Don't turn your back on _me_."

Jonny pivoted, "No, only _one_ Quest can do anything derisive like _that_. My grades are on par for Georgetown. _That's_ the school I want to go to. I want to study law and political theory. I _want_ to do a post at an embassy, I'd _love_ to run one, one day—but you don't even realize why I study all those languages or get really into anthropology or even archaeology and how it _matters_ to me. I wish you would spend time with Darren. At least he studies on how to be a good _dad_."

Jonny touched his cheek, shocked at the realization his dad had slapped him. Hard.

"In _one_ day you think some cowbird is a _great dad_ because he's filling your head with _malarkey_ about carving time out to go on outings? What _exactly_ do you think _normal_ kids do during the school year? Go meet diplomats in Prague and Tokyo?! No, they stay home or go run or play soccer. How _dare_ you act so entitled and self-aggrandized! You're jealous of tea parties? I don't see how, _your_ boorish manners are appalling!"

Jonny stared unblinking as his dad unloaded, his own emotions cooling rapidly. He'd wait for his dad's temper to fizzle out, he knew how long of a lecture that would be, at a minimum 20 more minutes. His cheek stung, it was probably bright pink.

"And don't think for a _minute_ that your attitude lends itself to diplomats or spies, you can't blend into anywhere you go, you run your mouth faster than your legs and then you squander what actual skills and gifts you have for some mediocre desire to chase after _one_ type of career you're observed and I'm supposed to waste a day of productive research so you can _dream_ about that unrealistic garbage?! You can barely keep yourself from drowning on a bike ride through the _woods_."

"Are you finished?"

"Hardly!" Dr. Quest seethed, realized a moment too late it wasn't Jonny who'd asked. He gave Darren a dirty look.

Jonny touched his forehead, he felt a migraine coming on from his father's hand-grenade toss into his ambitions and dreams. Really, there were reasons they _didn't_ talk about it. He knew that. It _was_ stupid to think a change in venues would make an impact.

"Let me assure you, Dr. Quest, if you raise a hand to anyone in this house your research _will_ be delayed because I will personally break said hand myself. Now, apologize for hitting your son and take a goddamned walk. _My_ daughter needs her sleep and _your_ son needs a moment, himself."

Darren set down a tray, slid it out from between the three in the hallway.

"…I don't need an apology, sir. Thanks though." Jonny said back to Darren, "Besides, dad's right. I'm _awful_ at diplomacy." Tears pricked in his eyes just thinking that. It had been _so_ stupid of him.

"That's patently false. You just haven't studied up on technique." Darren pulled Jonny to his other side, acting as a physical barricade. "I already told you I think you have a damn good knack, but you gotta read the room, of which there's a bathroom two doors down. Go wash up, if you need some ice, let me know." His voice was gentle but firm, hedged with no space for an argument.

Jonny bowed his head, "…Thanks."

"Go on, then."

Jonny took his leave.

"I didn't dismiss—"

Jonny's eyes trailed up to his dad's, his own anger deflated rapidly at the sight of red-rimmed blue eyes and the pink mark.

"—you're dismissed." He said stoically.

"Good decision." Darren said flatly, "So now we know why you're _not_ a bourbon man…" He gestured to the study. "Let me check on my princess and then _you_ and _I_ will chat. The study's where you left it."

Benton leaned his head into the wall, locking eyes on the ceiling, then headed to the other room.

He felt like a cad, an absolute rake. He let out a slow breath.

Darren put a bowl of soup on the nightstand on the serving tray. In a hushed voice he asked, "Princess, how much of that did you eavesdrop?"

Venus frowned, "…I should've gotten up."

Darren shook his head, "No you shouldn't have because then I'd be spending the rest of my weekend hiding a body instead of coddling you, and you know I prefer to dote."

She wiped at teary eyes, "He tore into him _awful_."

"Yeah, that looks like a recurrent theme, too. Don't listen, don't listen, don't talk—explode in talk, explode in headstrong ego. You owe _him_ nothing. Jonny's a good kid, and I'll see if I can get his dad to stop pursuing that role on the muppets by dislodging the stick he's got up his ass, but _do not_ engage in that. _That's_ adult talk, if a kid—no matter how mature—talks into that it'll _only_ pull down the levels and devolve it into a pissing contest."

"Yes, daddy."

"Phil said you couldn't eat the ravioli. I made some pea soup. Can you try to eat that all for me?"

She frowned, "Now I _really_ have no stomach."

"Okay, eat half of it anyway. Deal?"

With a weak nod, she pulled it closer to her.

"Sweetie, you're not allowed near him unsupervised. He's a prick."

"Et tu, Brutus?" She smiled, "I figured that out _hours_ ago."

Darren pet her jaw, "Yeah, well, you're plenty smart. I had my hunches, but that took the cake."

"Is Jonny _not_ going to stay, now?"

"Fuck that. I might enroll him in _your_ school if Dr. Quest doesn't turn that bus around."

"Okay… don't hide a body. I'll need more rations before then."

He laughed, booped her nose, "Okay, princess."

-Frequency JQ-

Benton held his head, crestfallen as he replayed the _conversation_ Darren had kindly derailed.

He was right on two counts, he was finished, and _not_ a fan of bourbon. He circled the room, antsy with unspent adrenalin. When had his son viewed him as belittling? When had he started that trend? Patronizing him, undermining his personal development when it didn't align with _his own_ interests? And throwing it in his _face_ … no wonder he wasn't keen to be in the lab with him.

And finally, _finally_ rebuilding his own self-esteem with the athletics and he threw the wrench himself to undercut him so thoroughly.

What was he telling his son in his actions? That he was a hypocrite, that's what. Be yourself, you're a wonderful, kind, compassionate person—oh, but all of your interests are garbage, you can't live up to your own dreams or potential, and I think you're an idiot, why is your self-confidence in tatters?

He let out a groan.

Darren opened the door, entered. "Let me start by saying as a parent, not one for the highlights reel."

Benton's eyebrows shrugged in agreement.

"I also won't judge your worsts as if it's your norms, but you have gotta ask yourself how much of _that_ shit is an easter egg _in_ your norms."

Dr. Quest gave him a puzzled look.

"Actions and words, Dr. Quest. When are your actions and words matching your best self and when are they matching your worst self? What is your norms."

Dr. Quest gave him a puzzled look.

"Actions and words, Dr. Quest. When are your actions and words matching your best self and when are they matching your worst self? What is _your kid_ hearing when you're thinking you're on a normal day? Is he thinking he's stupid and unwanted or is he thinking he's loved and cherished?"

"I'm entirely sure it's quite a mixed bag."

"Yeah, I picked _that_ up too." He eyed the photo of Becky, "Becs would laugh her ass off at me right now."

"How so?"

"Because I'm about to go Child Psych 403 on you and she and I often followed the fourth F as a coping mechanism."

"Fourth F?"

"There's five—fight, flight, faint, fuck, and fabricate. As I'm totally not into redheads, luckily, we'll bypass that one. At least your boy's still an f-one, but given his interests, the fifth is probably a good one to read up on."

Benton gave Darren a petered look.

"Venus and I fought pretty aggressively when our communications broke down like yours clearly is. _That's_ why we have that carved out time. Anything, within reason, she wants to do for a day we do. We spend the whole day gabbing about _anything_ she wants to talk about, even if it boils my blood, because at least she's talking about it. You think you know pain—go to an anime convention with your nerdy kid who's looking for a rare book." He shuddered, "Women with yaoi paddles who shriek out _kawaiiiiii_ and then you'd get it. I go because _then_ at least I know what she likes. Go to a cooking class where they can't make a decent espresso to save their lives and patiently listen to their bullshit about how to store beans for months… May I assure you, after month 1, that storage is the trash can. But I go, because she wants to know the difference between quiche Lorraine and a ham-and-cheese quiche. Shit, even just finding a haunted house that won't trigger PTSD—you _have_ to listen to your kids, and not the average of your kids but each of them. Your boy is not a troublemaker. He's a curious squirt who wants to measure the world, to explore, to do important shit, even if it's not important to _you_."

"It took a senior level course to say listen actively?"

"Yeah, advanced shit, isn't it."

"At least I don't feel as awful about missing that then."

"My daughter want him to spend time here. And you look like you've got homework. We could keep him here for a weekend, I'll even get him a flight back. And they were talking about Halloween… We could _also_ show you our prep school. It's for smart little shits who get mischievous when bored. The boarding school is boys only, but the prep school is co-ed."

"I'm not shipping him off indefinitely."

"Saying it has online classes, I'd say that's extreme. But it also has accelerated coursework like Poli-Sci. College level work, minimal cost, transfers into your own work. It would be an extracurricular that's _his_ alone."

"Why are you trying to help us?"

"Because, frankly, if you _ever_ treat my kid like that I'd kill you and I'd get away with it. And, as I said, Jonny's a good kid. So are Hadji and Jessie, but _they_ don't look like they're struggling." He smirked, took out a clove cigarette. "Plus, she won't be near _you_ until she's confident about that, and _that_ won't happen before I'm confident about you. And having a backup babysitter who's able to keep up with threats _and_ also doesn't have a homicidal maniac gunning for her? Meh, I can be magnanimous. So what say you? Will you take me up on the offer?"

Benton nodded. "First, I need to patch things up with my son."

"Nah, that's third or fourth. First, you need to let _him_ decompress and unpack all the bullshit you hurled at him, second you let him come up with _his_ rebuttal, then you listen and listen _well_. Either then you can patch or you fix your own shit _then_ patch, and this place is secure. So what's a good estimate?"

"Broody teen, ass of a dad—it's already October… keep him for a long weekend, he'll be back for Halloween."

[Chapter 1]


	2. Chapter 2

Frequency [Chapter 2] by Vanessa S. Quest

Jonny sat across from TK and the 'Olson Twins' Matt and Bobby in study hall.

"You guys won't believe it…" He said in all smiles as they continued on their group report.

"What? You got to have a private viewing of the play so you can contribute to the group project?" TK egged.

The blond rolled his eyes, "No, but I've read Wicked _and_ have seen it a season ago, no—it's not about the project."

"You were kidnapped by Amazonian women and they want to study we, mediocre, men?" Bobby added to the fray.

"Come on guys, I'm serious—it's…"

"You're pregnant!?" Matt said proudly, "I'm sure there's an ethics committee discussion ongoing, but—"

Jonny leaned his head back to groan, "No, but it _is_ about family… partial credit."

"You really _are_ adopted?"

"—An alien?"

"—You got _Jessie_ knocked—just kidding. That'd be Hadji."

The three said in the same order.

"Fine, you guys want to work on this solo. I'll take the hint," he huffed.

TK grabbed his arm, "No way, our bombshell blond is our lucky charm! What is it? Another huge fight with your dad? Was that why you really ditched us?"

"Kind of. Dad wouldn't let me go because someone made a 'credible threat.' And _then_ I found out I have a sister!" The boys shot forward in their seats.

"Like some 25 year old rogue who's been kicked outta the family for selling weapons to drug cartels or mines blood diamonds?"

"Or like your dad cloned someone—"

"—Or has a new… never mind." Bobby froze as Jonny shot him a death glare.

"No, like my dad never _told_ me I had a twin., and said twin supposedly was dead but was really switched at birth."

Tk laughed darkly, "Huh, so I guess that theory of yours wasn't _completely_ off base…"

Jonny looked down, hurt, "Yeah, well, apparently." He shook his head suddenly regretting opening his own wounds, "But it was great! I met her, and the first time in my whole life that I can remember, I met a person who _didn't_ get impressed by my dad just because he was in the room!"

The twins looked between themselves. "…Is she slow?" Matt articulated.

"Not at all, _but_ she does think dad's an egotistical prick and self-flagellating, her words, not mine."

"No shit, you couldn't spell _that_."

"What? Self-flagellating?"

Bobby laughed, "No, _prick_."

He rolled his eyes, "She liked me right away, though. And she _listened_ to me… it was almost like talking with mom."

The boys looked between themselves, none of them were assholic enough to mock a guy's dead mom. "…So what're you going to do?" TK ventured, he closed the report binder.

"…Dad wants her to visit here, but _her_ dad—the guy who raised her—he also thinks dad's not hot sh…well, stuff."

"But if she's your sister, doesn't your dad _get_ custody?" Matt asked.

"I'd get why, with the Quest track record, her dad would be leery. Most kids don't need bodyguards or get kidnapped or roped into doomsday cults on the reg." Bobby chimed glibly.

"No, apparently that's genetic. She has _my_ level of 'luck,' be it the good, the bad, or the weird."

"…Wait… how _did_ you find out about her?"

Jonny smiled sadly, "That credible threat grabbed her thinking she was _me_."

"Holy shit! Where?!"

"On Broadway, during the class trip."

TK paled, "…I thought I was tripping and _saw_ your doppelganger but they were _pale_ , and skinny- even for _you_."

"…Yeah, I saw. Dad almost had a coronary infarction when I walked in—he had got a video ransom and was _pissed_ that I, 'yet again,' didn't listen to _him_ , even though I was at breakfast with all of them not even three hours before." He rolled his eyes, "…I thought it was some sick joke at first, but… yeah. She lives in New York."

"…Why did she look like a guy? She a really late bloomer or something?"

"No, she was in drag. Well, 'disguise'—refer back to my luck being genetic. She apparently calls herself Jonny if she needs to lay low… that… didn't play out well for her last weekend."

"What's her real name?"

Jonny smiled fondly, "Venus."

"…So she got kidnapped, but you met her—so I guess you went and rescued her?" TK counted, trying to figure it all out.

"No. Her dad did, actually. She got stabbed twice for her troubles, and I _really_ think that'll keep her dad a _big_ fan of ours… well, of my dad and family. But he's so cool, like Race except even _more_ BAMF."

"…" The boys looked between themselves, wondering about it.

"I can't talk about her family, I don't think I have their permission—but her dad threatened to _deck_ my dad." He laughed a doofy, gallows-humored laugh.

"How is that _good_?" Bobby ventured. Jonny swallowed thickly.

"…Do you have any idea what it's like in the shadows of Mount Quest and _always_ being told or seeing it demonstrated how _you're_ the stupid one, the _reckless_ one, the _clumsy_ one, the one who's _never_ good enough? Like, normal parents don't _outsource_ their kids, right? But I go home every day to jokes that Jessie and I must've been swapped, and Hadji—dad's 'right hand guy,' his _chosen_ kids… versus the genetic 'oops' of a fuck-up." He wiped a hand down his face. He rarely laid it out, but he knew his friends sensed his self-consciousness. Goofs always read the writing, after all. "…And _her_ dad told me he thought I was _smart_ , and even guessed what I would be interested in… I asked _dad_ that and he was half-tempted to strangle me for my 'bad' grades that would keep me from a promising career in robotic engineering without him calling in some major favors."

"That still?" TK gawked, "Because you did well in robot camp when you were 10?"

"Because it's engineering and that or science is the only _viable_ thing I, as a Quest, could ever clearly desire or strive for… reference Mt. Quest." He pointed to an imagined summit he was drowning in the shadow of.

"…So they fought about parent styles and _you_?"

Jonny shrugged. "And how it'd be the same with Venus and that's not _good enough_. He put my dad on notice."

Bobby and Matt's jaws dropped, having heard some stories from their mom that they'd never share. TK dared, "Holy shit, has your dad _ever_ been 'put on notice?'"

"Not like that, no. He's 'soul searching' right now… but for the first time in _years_ it was almost— _ALMOST_ like he heard me. Me. Not _the kids_ , not society or _his_ expectations—but what _I_ wanted and needed… and that he ordained he'd consider it."

"You are a _very depressing_ Bond Blond today, yo." TK joked flatly.

"…Are you okay, anyway?" Bobby asked, scratching his jaw near where Jonny had a small bruise.

"Not particularly, _he's_ soul-searching, _I'm_ feeling the perks of my gilded cage. Not too many perks, but on Halloween I get to visit my sister alone—no Jessie, no Hadji, no dad, no Race, sadly no Bandit either, that's the one downside, Darren's not into pets in his house at all."

"That's cool, I guess. How'd you swing no 'rental supervish?"

"Darren'll be there," he shrugged, "That and they probably want a break from me, anyhow." He laughed to mask the hitch in his throat. "Sorry, I'm being a Debbie Downer instead of an Ursula Upper… It's just been so much. I felt like a voyeur seeing how they acted like a real family… _how_ much her dad _cared_ and wanted to know her as a person… and strove for it. It's lame, but I'm a little jealous—but I'll live vicariously, see what _that_ life is like instead of 'fit round peg in square slot.'"

"Yeah, it isn't easy being Green, huh?" Matt pantomimed. Bobby tossed a highlighter at him.

"No. No you will _not_ be that _pun_ ishing. Only Jonny can get away with ones that awful!"

"Thanks guys… anyway, for the paper- what theme are we covering?"

"We can pick it—off-label, I mean. It could be about how the themes of power and friendship intersect, or how religion and wealth worked against—or even what the royalty or how color shaped perception?"

Jonny gave TK a dirty look. "Stop reading Spark Notes. Ms. Labinski will know, we will fail, and then my dad _will_ use my corpse for scientific experiments. Let's focus on the changes in the main characters' lives and how it shifted from the original work to add motivation and explanations."

"Shoe-horn canon… on it."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

"Aw man, if we _don't_ get an A+ on that, I don't know what _will_."

"Yeah, Jonny—why have we _never_ taken honors classes together before?! We call dibs on being your partners _all year_."

Jonny shrugged, "Let's get the paper _back_ first, it'll either be an A or an F for not keeping on point."

"Ms. L's not going to fail _that_ , Jonny. No way." TK added in.

The teen smiled at his school friends, this year was their sophomore year, and so far, it _was_ the first honors or AP class they'd taken together. Freshman year, he'd met TK at a school assembly and helped out in club activities—extensive travel schedule permitting, Bobby in art class and Matt in German class—though he knew them through Mrs. Evans too; they lucked out into study hall together, but they didn't have lunch together until _this_ year.

As the bell chimed, they all separated to the second to last class of the day. For Jonny, that was PE followed by AP Chemistry… his least favorite class, but at least he had a solid B+ in it, _much_ to his dad's personal disappointment.

He bumped into Jessie in the hallway.

"Oh, hey Jess."

"Hey yourself, space cadet." Jessie teased, "I was waving you over from hallway down the hall!"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Chemistry. I heard there's going to be a pop-quiz. I have study hall next, so I'm going to cram, but be forewarned."

"Ugh… I do _not_ need that negativity in my _life_." He sighed.

Jessie laughed, "It's not _too_ bad, it's supposed to be on chapter 7—just look at the definitions before you come in."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"Thank Kathy, _she's_ the one who warned me."

Jonny smiled, headed to the locker room double-time. Gym class had passed quickly, this topic was track and field, and with the triathlon approaching, he'd nailed the running portion with ease, endurance running for the ten laps, he had pulled one of the best times in the group. The only person who 'bettered' him was on the track team for cross-country and that was by two yards. Not that he was being competitive, he _had_ the reserve where he could've sprinted that last lap, he just didn't feel the need to be a complete show-boat.

Really, like he'd ever be 'proud' of an A in gym. Hell, his dad would just lecture him about the B+ in AP Chemistry and talk at him about priorities and focus like always.

Endorphins quickly were replaced by his own angst. Jessie had an A in Chem, not a _high A_ but it was still solid. Jonny, on the other hand, was at the cusp of an A- or as his dad would say, 'bare minimum.'

He flipped open his book to cram. He'd read chapters 7 and 8 on the flight home, but he still wasn't sure about _when_ a reaction pushed the benzyl ring to add an ortho, mesa, or para- in methylation. "Ugh, I hate general chem…" He groaned, still unsure.

Conceptually, he got it—charges and stability impact the where but even 'chair' or 'boat' got confusing because _then_ you'd have cis and trans attachments to consider, and the bigger the additive, the more likely it would affect the overall formation.

He was spatially inclined, but _that_ wasn't about space. _That_ was all about memorizing formulae to reaction, and forgetting the right _name_ was tanking his shot at a passable report card.

He felt so stupid in AP Chem. He hated that his dad insisted he take it even though he didn't take high-school Chemistry or even Honors Chemistry… Biology had been fine, hell, _Physics_ would've been okay to just wing, but _Chemistry_?! It was the _worst_.

He groaned as he eyed Chapter 7 and 8's definitions, he was ready for this day to be over and to go for a run and a bike ride.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Jessie let out a long whistle at the end of class. Even by _her_ standards, that quiz had been _cruel_ , "Kathy didn't _say_ Mr. Stevens was mad at us."

Another student groaned, "It _wasn't_ , that's the 'Quest Factor,' he made ours even _harder_ 'cuz numb-nuts here is in _our_ class." Todd said bitterly, shouldered toward Jonny.

Jonny rolled his eyes.

"Carrie told me about the 'hard' question _theirs_ had, it was draw the structure after describing the reaction listed. _That_ … I don't even know what _that_ was!"

"Oh, you mean draw the apparatus, calculate the moles and list the _three_ different possible outcomes was too hard? And the percentage you'd see of each?" Jonny bit, pissed.

"It's _your_ fault we get this shit. Why not drop the class and give us a snowball's shot in hell to get a good grade…" Todd bickered back.

"I _can't_ drop the class." Jonny seethed, more at himself, he wished he _could_.

"John! John, I have a question for you before you head out…" Mr. Stevens called toward his bench where he was packing up to catch the bus.

Jonny looked around, "You mean me, Mr. Stevens?"

"Yes, you, John."

Jonny groaned inwardly, smiled politely and encroached the demon's inner lair. "Sir, I _really_ only go by Jonny…"

"What self-respecting teenager uses—no, never mind." He caught himself, it only made Jonny even _more_ eager to be receptive.

"Your question, sir? The bus—" he pointed to the time to indicate it would leave soon.

"Oh, right, so I saw your dad recently put out an article about antibiotic infused plastics. Could you ask him if he'd be willing to present the topic to the class in two weeks? A guest lecture on that, especially once we're in plastics would be—"

"—Sorry, sir, no-can-do. He has a conference and a research project he's ramping into…" Jonny deflected with practiced grace.

"Oh, well, in _that_ case, you could present it! I assume your dad talks to you about—"

"—You want _me_ to present on a topic we haven't covered in class on an advanced concept of said topic?" Jonny balked. This guy had _some_ damn nerve. "All due respect, sir—I _don't_ fully grasp the reactions—I can talk concepts and theories, but if you to teach that lesson, you'd be way more qualified in giving that presentation. I could ask dad for his _notes_ on it, or bring _in_ the article, but I couldn't…"

Mr. Stevens gave him an impatient look. Quest factor was right. This guy _hated_ him. Apparently, he was about to get back on the cusp of a B.

"With an attitude like _that_ , I almost think I need to call your father about your performance in class, John."

He was grinding his teeth, fuming. He fixed his 'confident' smile, "Did you ask other students to present? Or _their_ parents to?"

"I only ask what I think my students are capable of."

"Really? Then why didn't you ask Jessie? Or am I just capable of being a poor substitute of my dad, Mr. Stevens?"

"I did _not_ say that, John!"

"It's _Jonny_. My name is _not_ John, Mr. Stevens. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to catch my bus."

"Young man, tomorrow, on your study break swing by my office."

Jonny rolled his eyes. Great. _Now_ he'd get in-school suspension or _detention_. With a hurried pace he made it to the buses just in time.

"There you are! I thought you'd miss it." Jessie waved him over to a seat.

"Yeah, Mr. Stevens wants me to ask dad for something." He muttered, "Like an excuse to ship me off to military school."

"What'd he ask about?"

Jonny shrugged, "You know, if dad would guest lecture… seriously, I'm not opening _that_ bag of worms."

Jessie looked at Jonny in concern. "Your dad loves to talk about his projects, though."

"Yeah. I'm aware, Jess. And _then_ he'll be invited to all my science classes and be even _more_ annoyed at how stupid his…" he blushed, "Forget it." Jonny turned conspicuously to stare out another window.

"Is this about your fight last weekend and what that girl said?"

"That 'girl'? Jess, that's my _sister_. Seriously, none of you get it, do you?" He spotted an empty seat three rows up, eyed it with longing.

"Just because she looks like you doesn't _mean_ she's really related. _And_ she wouldn't even do the blood test! It could be a scam, you know!"

His eyes darkened dangerously, he gave her a measured glare. "Are you _kidding_ me?" His voice went to a deep husk, it startled Jessie into silence for a moment.

He stood up, driver be damned, and switched seats.

"Jonny!" Jessie fumed.

He had to keep his cool, she hadn't heard about how his dad had slapped him for _liking_ someone else's parenting style. She'd only heard the scrubbed-up version, they fought because _he_ felt rushed and that his dad was being dismissive, not about how his dad thought he was an idiot wasting his life and getting attached to people who treated each other with love and respect and _actually_ made quality time for each other.

He wondered when he really started to get so jealous and feel left out of his own life. Were they mutual, or did one predate the other? He turned to look out the window, one angry redhead was more than enough to have to avoid, but two? Even _he_ needed a break sometimes.

" _Jonny_." She continued, "Don't let her _poison_ you, she's just jealous is all…" She tried for tact, "Your dad's an amazing, smart, world-famous scientist and her feigning disinterest is clearly just—"

He rolled his eyes and neck, "Jess, she's _not_ feigning. She doesn't give a damn that dad's cured three unique diseases, helped advance space travel, and is an avid environmentalist. She doesn't care. Full stop. She's right, he _is_ an egotistical prick. That doesn't mean he's not also really kind, or compassionate, or that he doesn't love you guys—it just means he can be self-centered. And she's right."

"…What do you mean 'loves you guys'? Jonny—he loves you, too…"

Diplomatically, Jonny said, "Of course he does." Darren was 100% right about half-truths. He loved the idea of a genetic legacy, "I don't want to get into this on a _bus_."

"Alright, well, talk to me. We're _friends_."

"Sure… after my training." He said non-committedly, luckily she hadn't picked up on that. At their stop, they got off the bus and began the long walk up the driveway in silence.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

In his room, Jonny plowed through his homework and reading. He couldn't give his dad any grounds to renege on him. As it was, Mr. Stevens was _already_ working on _that_ front!

Jonny closed his door, even going so far as to lock and brace it shut with a chair. He _needed_ time alone to think. That was laughable though, he _usually_ had plenty of time _alone_ , the others always hung around his dad.

He rested his forehead against his forearms. Damn it, he missed his mom. She _always_ knew how to get through to him when he was sad or hurting. At least, that's how he remembered it. Eyes closing, he wondered back to his earlier questions—when had he really started to feel jealous and left out?

Maybe it was more systemic than he'd thought… his dad used to ignore him for _weeks_ even when his mom was alive. And then, she died and the behavior was the same. It was a hard sell, 'wanted child' and 'ignore for weeks on end' is a _hard_ discrepancy to look past.

He tilted his head to stare out the window. Maybe if he'd been more like Hadji, he would've been wanted. And even there, Jessie and Hadji had ditched him most of summer, and now they wanted to pretend like he wasn't getting nominated for 'most persistent third wheel'? He blew out a breathy sigh.

The sunset was beautiful. He really needed to make his run, and he sure as hell had no desire to sit through dinner with the family…

The _perfect_ family, Hadji the smart, studious, mature oldest. Jessie, talkative, popular, _loved_ the sciences and computers and to talk to his dad about his research… Race, man of few words or criticism, compassionate, understanding, brave— _his_ dad, world renowned engineer _and_ scientist, a credit to the human race, genius… and then the reject. That _little_ bit of humility built in, him. _Not_ a genius, _not_ great at school, a 'jock' in his dad's eyes—some useless hobby-horse of being a muscle-bound buffoon except Jonny was lanky in build like his dad, so not even _too good_ at that either.

He felt bad, if _he'd_ been the one switched there would never have been a search. He laughed darkly, he felt pathetic. Hell, if there was, after meeting him they'd have packed up the jet and flown straight home.

No, he'd skip dinner and talks about how he probably _failed_ another pop-quiz in AP Chem, because a B _was_ a fail regardless of what the Education Board of Maine had to say about it. He picked up his cellphone, tossed that, his keys, and a small water bottle on the bed and changed into running sneakers and a reflective wrist-strap.

At least the trails near here were ideal for running. First he'd run, then he'd confirm he was alive and unkidnapped, ride his bike- then hit the showers and bed. Maybe he'd call his sister.

It felt so nice to have _that_ distinction. _He_ had one relationship none of the others had dibs on, or arguably wanted what with his dad's cavalier dismissal of it. He felt icy, remembering how easily his dad had 'dismissed' him after the fight too.

He had sent _Race_ to tell him he could stay… they hadn't had so much as a word between them since. That stung. Almost as much as the slap had. Maybe he _could_ go to a boarding school. He'd be out of his dad's way at least, _plus_ they were full of rich kids so the teachers probably weren't star-struck and malicious.

No, his dad might ignore him and his 'little interests' but he'd _never_ let him know _that_ peace. Maybe prep school was an 'okay' excuse to ship him off though?

He'd have to ask Darren for a brochure… work on that diplomatic approach. "Sell it to dad… cater to _his_ ego… make it about why _he'd_ benefit from it." Jonny mumbled his considerations. He shook his head, he'd ride his bike first—take it to TK's, drop it off there, run, then ride back. He didn't need to chance any forced interactions.

Can't drown in a river on a bike if you're not _by_ a river, after all. Some genius, there.

He smiled sadly at that. Like he'd just fallen in… he'd dove in to save a woman's pack because a part fell in on her _first_ backpacking trip and she'd freaked out, entirely unsure of what to do. Ever the gentleman, he'd decided to get it for her, he knew the water would be _cold_ but not _dangerously_ cold yet, besides, he'd be home in no time and could get changed. A hiker? Not so much.

He unbraced his bedroom door, wrote a note and slipped it under Race's door before hurrying off.

He didn't need to talk to anyone, not anyone _here_ at least. Before he got out of the mudroom with his bike, he gave Bandit a lot of attention, apologetic that he couldn't take the bulldog along.

"Sorry, boy. You're not built for triathlons." He smiled, faltering as he saw Hadji wave at him from his approach from the lighthouse, Jonny gave a polite wave, indicated his watch and bike then hauled ass to take off.

He _really_ didn't need his brother digging into him too, and if Jessie _AND_ his dad were pissed, and he was 98.9% sure they both were by now, his brother _would_ try to mediate.

He simply didn't have the fortitude to deal with the pitying older brother consoling the immature, reckless little brother schtick.

Missed were the days where they both were on the same page—'want to go explore—' 'YES… oh sorry, you didn't finish, explore where?' 'Pirate coves.' 'Make that a hell yes…' Now it was, 'want to help dad in the lab?' 'Oh sorry, I have an elective root canal I can't miss.'

Jonny hopped onto his bike, hurried lest he get yet another lecture.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Hadji frowned after his brother indicated his inability to wait for him. He desperately wanted to speak to him, from what he had gleaned, while the weekend away had been good for his brother, the _fight_ with their father had _not_.

From his father's perspective, which always tended to mute some of his own egregious behaviors- it had been a bad one. _Bad_ enough that he felt compelled to let Jonny stay with relative strangers simply because Phil Korvin and Race could vouch for them.

He knew his brother was a sensitive soul, very gentle and in ways much more delicate than he or Dr. Quest were. The streets had steeled Hadji, academia Dr. Quest, but Jonny did not ever seem to _lose_ that delicate, kind nature, even with the repeated horrors he'd endured.

Hadji worried, if even their _dad_ blamed himself, how much worse had it been on _Jonny_?

Of course, then there was news of his sister— _their_ sister. He had not gotten any time to speak with her, she had been in pain, startled, and understandable impatient and shocked when they had 'met.' Hadji was well aware that it behooved no man to catch a tiger by the tail. While Jessie was quick to write her off as a 'spoiled bitch,' Hadji did _not_ perceive it that way.

He wondered if Venus too felt like he had upon learning of his mother. He also wondered greratly if she had Jonny's empathetic spirit or if she was more fire, like their father. Simply, there had not been enough time.

As his brother rushed off, it seemed to be a worrying trend. Hadji knew when Jonny got into these funks he would avoid most interpersonal interactions, binge exercise as a 'healthy' excuse, then catch dinner alone in his room.

He could easily spring a trap and ambush his little brother with food upon his return. Likely he would have to do so _before_ he cleaned up, lest the younger would lock himself in, he wondered if Jonny realized that they all collectively knew he did that or if he thought that simply no one checked on him.

Even Race had debated, on several such occasions, whether barging in and knocking was more harm than good.

Race had been of the opinion that kids, as they grew, needed privacy and for people to respect it. Mayhaps Hadji was more mischievous, or even bratty, but he did _not_ personally agree. He simply, usually, tried to be his better self and respect stupid decisions.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

By 10PM, Jonny was physically and emotionally spent. He'd opted to do 40 miles on the bike and on an empty tank, that had gotten particularly hard when he was taking a hilly course. He still refused to go easy on himself, instead of taking the flat trail back, he insisted on taking the rugged trail back for the last grueling 5 miles. He wreaked to high-heaven of sweat.

Cool evening or no, the wicking t-shirt smelt for his troubles. " _One_ more thing to do now…" he mumbled as he eased the bike into the mudroom, "Shower, laundry, eat, sleep…" he listed, his taut shoulders sore from gripping the handle-bars for several climbs.

His calves were on fire, he probably could've been easier on himself after the run today, but on good news, Venus _had_ texted him.

Apparently 'Village of the Damned' was nixed, her friends had already bought their costumes. She had told him she's going as a 'final girl' and that they also got _him_ a Michael Myers costume, but that they were hiding all of it until Halloween for some unknown reason.

Jonny smiled to himself, " _Probably_ because Darren's going to kill them for getting you a skimpy costume especially when it's _freezing_ outside." Jonny hadn't told her so, but he did hint, "Maybe they think your dad wouldn't approve."

It was sweet how she defended him fiercely, how he _never_ disapproved of imaginative costumes, but he couldn't reply. He said he was going for a bike ride and she wished him luck and, 'good speed/time = velocity.' Just the kind of geekiness he could appreciate.

He rolled his shoulders and put his bike up. As he approached his room he called Bandit, "Here boy…" The bulldog happily trotted to him, he picked up the chunker as Bandit helped clean his face. "I missed you too, buddy." He scratched his ears in appreciation of his companionship.

Jonny froze when he spotted Hadji in his room.

His brother locked eyes with him.

"If they're mad, I left a note and I _had_ my cellphone, they could've called or texted."

"It is not that. I knew you would be late, and assumably ravenous upon your return." He gestured to the covered dish with an impish smile.

Jonny eyed his brother nervously, he _hadn't_ expected unsolicited company, and he was clearly up to something. He wanted to change out and clean up, not deal with whatever… this was.

"Thanks, but I need to hit the shower—"

"That is fine, I will come back in 20 minutes."

"—I need to do laundry, too."

"Laundry does not grow legs and walk away. It can wait, 20 minutes." He tapped _his_ watch and smiled.

Jonny groaned inwardly, grabbed a t-shirt, sweat shorts, and boxers before trekking to the bathroom, Bandit following him. "You could'a warned me, boy." Bandit tilted his head, clearly aware of what warning meant, but _not_ why it was warranted. "Damn it. Well, _two_ days was clearly overshooting my luck." He mumbled, hit the hot water on and peeled off the grime. He didn't _want_ to speed through the shower.

The jets massaged away the aches in his calves, shoulders, neck, and back. He gave himself a luxurious _25_ minute, if he was getting lectured anyway, might as well be comfy.

He cut the water, toweled off most of the water, then grabbed a towel for his sopping mop of hair. Dressed for bed, he scooped up the towel and sweat-soiled gym clothes then headed to his room, Bandit acting as his shadow.

He eyed his brother, still smiling at him. It was suspicious, what was his angle?

"That showerhead is _great_ after a run…" Jonny offered, if they were going to verbally spar, he'd be at the ready.

"I am glad, do you feel better now that you have rode it from your system?"

"…My triathlon training? I'm not sure what you think I was riding off, Hadj."

"Are you ready to eat? You must be feeling the calorie deficit _now_ , yes?"

'Oh _must_ I…' Jonny ticked internally, face neutral, "Not just yet, it was a shorter ride." He smiled, lying through his teeth, he felt _starved_.

Hadji didn't seem to pick up on it, or at least acknowledge the fib if he did.

"Ah, well, then let us speak…" He gestured to his brother's second chair, "There is no need to _stand_ on formalities, is there, Jonny?"

"Right, yeah—have a seat," he said to his already seated brother and sat down himself, on the edge of his bed. _Not_ the chair Hadji signaled. "What's up, Hadj?"

"How was your weekend? I look forward to hearing about Venus. What is she like?"

Jonny blinked, taken aback, he hadn't thought he'd talk about that. "It was fine, she's really nice. Her and her dad, they invited me there for Halloween," he smiled, "Actually, she even got me a costume in case I _can_ go." He looked down, oddly put at ease by the thought.

"That is quite considerate. What costume is it?"

"Oh, Michael Myers—they're doing a horror movie theme. Each of them will be an icon in the industry… Freddy, Jason, and Final Girl."

"Final Girl?" Hadji asked, "I do not recognize that movie franchise."

"No, it's not—that's who survives—there's _usually_ a lone survivor, typically a girl—that's the 'final girl,' the one that can't be killed… dark, given that she was just stabbed and all, but apropos." He smiled into himself, more relaxed.

"So her friends like to joke a lot?"

Jonny shrugged, "I haven't met them yet. Sorry you didn't get a chance to talk to her much… I think you'd like her too, she's _smart_ , but she also is really easy to talk with."

"I have never met a Quest who is not."

Jonny's face darkened, "She _isn't_ a Quest, Hadji."

"Oh, but she most certainly _is_ your sister… _our_ sister."

His mood deteriorated, it _had_ been a set-up after all. "So dad sent you in here to harp on that? Is that it? Her life suits her _just fine_ , if she doesn't want in on our circus, I _can't_ blame her, she _isn't_ a Quest. She's _her own_ person—"

"That is not how I meant that, Jonny, and our father did _not_ 'send' me to speak to you on any such errand. For one, I would outright refuse. I want to speak with you and so I am here _to_ speak with you." Jonny blew out a steadying breath. "Perhaps I misspoke. I mean to say I find _you_ to be smart and easy to talk to, so I could see how Venus is too. I also find father easy to talk to and smart, though I suspect we disagree on the first trait."

He saw Jonny try to center himself, play a mental defense. Since when had his brother begun building _these_ mannerisms? It seemed more mature, and yet oddly unsettling for him to seem so discontent.

"Ah, so that's how you meant it." His delivery had been even keel, blasé, but he had a range of depths in his eyes Hadji felt unnerved by.

"He spoke of what happened on Friday." He pushed, first he needed Jonny's defenses lowered.

"Oh? What did he say?" Jonny didn't budge. Not an inch.

"I am much more concerned with your perspective."

"Hmm, well, I met my sister and her dad, and saw Phil Korvin for the first time in a while. All in all, it was eventful."

"And what of the even with Dr. Quest?" Hadji edged.

"What event is that, Hadji?" Jonny's voice was stoic, eerily so.

"You are not internalizing this, Jonny. Please speak to me, I am your brother and I love you."

"Hadji, it's normal to have disagreements from time to time. It's not anything newsworthy."

"He told me his perspective, will you not tell me yours?"

"I will not, that is correct. You're a bit of a meddler sometimes, and I do not feel you need to mediate our disagreement."

"While I appreciate how mature you sound, I am not in a position _to_ mediate this. I wish to support you. Father has a tendency to… how to put it gently… sugar coat his position, and what _he_ said occurred, even when sugar-coated was quite bad."

"Good to know." Jonny said flatly, his mood rapidly souring. "Hadji, I have school tomorrow, I'm fine, _tired_ , but fine."

"You have yet to eat." Hadji looked at him, worried, "And what is 'good to know'? That he admitted fault?"

Jonny's eyes clouded, "That he can't keep a private conversation _personal_ , Hadji. My apologies, but I simply am not hungry, I'm _tired_. Very, very tired and I'd like to go to sleep. Thank you for your concern, but I can assure you, I am fine."

"I do not know why you would lie to me as such, Jonny, but _when_ you are ready to discuss this, my door is always open to you."

Hadji saw himself out, unsure of how he'd failed _so_ miserably on his mission.

Added insult to injury was watching Jonny take the food out of his room, straight to the kitchen, then return to grab laundry.

'He simply cannot really be without appetite. It is _not_ possibly.' He thought in upset.

Jonny returned to his room, door locked, and laid in bed as he listened to his stomach angrily growl, he rolled to his side and closed his eyes disinterested.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

A train. He felt like he'd been hit by a train. Jonny gave his alarm clock a pleading look, it didn't change the time anyhow. He didn't suddenly have another two hours to sleep.

Thinking it over, going to school was _still_ more ideal than even _considering_ staying home.

Committed on that thought, he forced himself upright, teetered, and made his way to his dresser to pull out an outfit.

He slipped on a wool sweater over an undershirt, boxers, khakis, wool socks, and boots. Wallet, cellphone, keys, and wrist watch on, he lifted his book bag and opted to 'walk' in. Under the weather or no, he'd _need_ food, and his pride equally needed privacy.

The last thing he wanted to deal with was a damn lecture, and frankly, despite what Hadji _claimed_ his dad said, there was no guarantee inside this house that he'd avoid one.

Then again, it was also clear that he'd get one from Mr. Stevens, too. He leaned his head back into the wall, ignoring how it made the room spin. Why couldn't he just catch a break?

He wondered what cursed ancient amulet _he_ was holding onto, then bitterly expected it was microchipped into him, instead.

With a hoverboard in hand, he made his way to town not bothering to give the others a heads up.

While on Main Street, he tucked into a bakery and grabbed four different pastries, paid in cash with a good gratuity to boot, and shot Jessie a text to let her know he left without her. "No need to water the fire with kerosene…" he mumbled, chowing through the first and second pastries in famish. "Oh carbs, how I missed you!" he continued to mumbled to himself.

Enough fuel in the tank, he continued to school, the additional calories would be needed before first bell, but as it was, he'd go talk with Mr. Stevens and _hope_ to convince him _not_ to screw him over for a whim of his when Jonny hadn't actually done anything _wrong_.

He felt his phone buzz before he got half-way to school from the bakery. Then again, and again—by the fifth he understood Jessie was _pissed_ , all without even having to look.

With a sigh, he pulled the phone and read through the rant anyway.

"1/5 I can't believe you ditched me you little je"

"2/5 rk-face! And after I warned you about the po"

"3/5 p-quiz in Chemistry! Fine then! Don't expe"

"4/5 ct me to give you another hint. You meet 1 per"

"5/5 son and suddenly act like a complete putz!"

He powered off his phone. He wondered if he was too old to be adopted, or too young to be emancipated, to hedge his bets. He reached school 30 minutes before first bell.

Steeling himself, he headed to the teachers' lounge.

"Excuse me, is Mr. Stevens in for the day?" He asked Mrs. Hanes, one of the art teachers he actually _wanted_ to take a class under.

"He is, was he expecting you?"

"Not yet, but I came in early so I could find out what he needed."

"Andrew, one of your students is here—"

"Oh? Who?"

"Jonny Quest, sir." He introduced.

"John! Come on back to my office." He waved him over.

Jonny gnashed his teeth. Diplomacy. He needed to act with decorum, and not the _boorish manners_ his father thought he had.

Inside the small office, Jonny locked eyes with Mr. Stevens. "About yesterday…" Jonny framed, "You asked me to come in to talk about something?"

"Ah, yes. About your presentation…"

He refused to let his shoulders slump.

"Is two weeks enough time or would you rather three?"

"Sir, I don't have a presentation. I thought I was clear that I'm not confident in giving one for the class."

"Oh, that non-sense attitude again, John, you need to build up your own confidence. You're smart enough to figure it out with the readings, stop being modest. Plus, it's your _dad's_ paper, I'm fairly sure he'd give you pointers."

Jonny held his tongue, gave a strained, ugly smile, "Mr. Stevens, you gave us a syllabus. In it, there was _NO_ mention of giving a lecture—group or individual. I am _not_ comfortable with that assignment and I do not wish to do it."

"How can you be uncomfortable? John, you're a likeable guy, I _bet_ public speaking is something you'd excel at—"

"Mr. Stevens, my name is _Jonny_. Jonny Quest, not Benton Quest, Jonny Quest—I'm not the savant Quest. You can't just assign me a name or ask me to do a presentation for an unknown impact on my grade that no one else has to do, and I do _not_ feel comfortable presenting. The class already blames me personally every time you make _our_ quizzes harder. I don't want to present, I don't to interrupt my dad's works. I'm a B-student in your class, I've _never_ taken Chemistry but you want me to discuss a post-doctorate paper?!"

He watched his teacher cross his arms and shoot up an eyebrow, "John—"

Jonny rang his hands at his sides.

"—It's a college-level class, you're _not_ going to be an immature kid forever. It's a childish nickname."

"My _mother_ called me Jonny, I will _always_ go by _that_."

His teacher tsked, looked at him perplexed, "And when you grow up she'll just get used to calling you John."

"You _ass_ … No, she _won't_! Dead people _don't_ suddenly speak to you and call you different _names_." His jaw hit his chest, "…You know what… no. Dad's going to ground me for the rest of the year, I can deal with that. I'm dropping your class." He turned on his heels to leave, he felt a hand curl around his wrist grabbing him.

Jonny flicked his wrist free of the grip, a shocked look on his face for the wear.

"Wait—John!"

" _Don't_ touch me." Jonny rushed out of the office, body shaking in anger and adrenalin.

Mr. Stevens called out as he followed in fast steps, "John, you _can't_ drop my class. I'll call your father—you _have_ to have parental approval to do that—you're under 16."

Jonny glared at the man.

"Besides, you _can't_ waste your gifts! As you said, with _no_ previous exposure to chemistry, at a collegiate level you have a solid B. You're a chip off the old block!" He smiled, paternally adding, "Now, I've heard rumors of the temper, but the swearing is a bit excessive—combative even. That aside, if I _don't_ challenge you, John, I'm doing you a personal disservice."

He powered on his cellphone, hit speed-dial #2— #1 was Race's emergency line.

"Jonny? Why are you on your phone at school—" His dad started in, Jonny wasn't even surprised.

"I'm dropping AP Chemistry. The teacher told me I need _your_ permission, he also thinks he can pick my name, add projects to only me, ostracize me in class by making pop-quizzes harder for any class _I_ sit in because I'm a Quest, and _oh_ , this one's no big deal or anything but he laid hands on me. I'm dropping it. I'm _also_ now going to leave school for the day, dad. Any comment—you're on speaker."

"He _what?!_ " Dr. Quest fumed, "Don't. I'll be there in 15 minutes."

The teacher crossed his arms as the phone disconnected.

"I have no problem speaking to irate parents fed one-sided narratives, John."

Jonny smiled, eyes not raising from the ground, "Yeah, good luck on that one." He picked up his bag and headed to the cafeteria, he pulled the breakfast pastry #3 from his bag and shoveled it down.

His stomach hurt. His head hurt. Hell, his whole being stung. He rested his forehead on the table, that _asshole_ took the cake. "Your _mom'll_ call you…" he seethed, "What kind of jerk says that to a kid who's mom died?!" He tossed pastry #4 into the waste bin and walked to the bathroom, sick to his stomach.

By time he puked up one through three, he heard the overhead page for him—or more precisely for John Quest, whoever the fuck _that_ was, to head to the principal's office.

For good measure, he added some bile to the rest of the container of stomach contents and flushed twice.

He rinsed his mouth with tap water and pulled a stick of gum. After a few good chews, he spat it out and rinsed again, then picked up his gear to await his dad's arrival, and ire.

As he walked in the first bell rang. Students were let off the buses to head to class.

He could hear the character assassination through the cracked door, "A complete narcissist—each quiz of the day gets harder! Kids _talk_ about what's on it…"

"…Tried to _empower_ him, _swears_ me out…"

"…Fabricated things, told his father _lies_ …"

Jonny sat down. Nice. He was going to get _suspended_ for this. As least it'd give his dad time to bury him.

"Jonny?" His dad locked eyes on him. He looked warily at his father, their first shared sighting since Friday, and frankly he wasn't ready to even _see_ him yet. Now he was guaranteed another blow-out. He lowered his eyes, waiting.

"Son, tell me _exactly_ what happened."

Jonny undid his watch and tossed it to his dad. "You know it records, feel free to listen to it." The misery apparent, there went Halloween—and anything else for _that_ matter.

Benton pocketed the watch. "What's this about him grabbing you." He said firmly.

"I turned to leave, he grabbed my wrist to stop it, I pulled my hand free just like Race taught how by turning in my thumb with a tug—" He thought for a moment, "My left hand."

Benton let out a long breath, trying to calm himself. "What's this about your name?"

"He refuses to call my Jonny, says it's juvenile— _immature_ , that it's a _college_ level class so I basically need to grow up. I told him I go by what my _mom_ called me and he's of the opinion she'll just grow into calling me John." He gave an enraged smile, " _I_ told him in some choice words how unlikely that is with her being deceased and all, and he proceeded to still call my John." There was no irony lost on him that he was conveying to his father, who'd _just_ put hands on him, himself, about the guy not listening to him or respecting his autonomy. With how his life was going, they'd probably be fast friends.

Benton nodded, "Right. You stay out here, I'll go in and have a discussion with them."

"Sure, just tell me how long I'm suspended _and_ grounded for, thanks." He said, greatly annoyed and even more unnerved.

Dr. Quest knocked assertively on the door. "Dr. Quest? Come in. Jonathon—"

"—Is perfectly fine waiting outside while we discuss this matter." He closed the door with a click.

The door didn't do much, Jonny knew his dad's voice carried, first hand, when he was livid.

After all, Hadji had to hear their arguments _somehow_. Jonny pressed his hands into his ears trying to drown out his own near future as the argument continued. He was so dead when they get home.

Good call in _not_ making _him_ a final-girl, he'd never make it that far. In his own reverie, ears blocked, he didn't hear the door open or see Mr. Stevens glare daggers at him as he walked off in a fury. He felt the back of a hand tap his triceps then unmuffled his ears.

His dad was looking at him with concern. Polite, bullshit concern.

"Well warden?" He asked flatly.

"Zero, zero, and you've successfully been un-enrolled from AP Chemistry." Jonny scowled at his dad in disbelief. "You're not off the hook, eighth period had a slot for AP Art Theory and you're now a month behind."

"…What?" He gaped.

"With Mrs. Hanes, there's been several assignments already, so you'll have to make them up."

Jonny checked his own temperature. He _had_ to be delusional… this _couldn't_ be…

"Principal Raltz agrees that while today will _not_ be counted against your record as a suspension or an unexcused absence, that it's best for you to come home for the day."

"…Because Mr. Stevens grabbed me?"

"And that they think it's best for _your_ wellbeing and _his_ that I take you home."

"…But I'm _not_ suspended… _or_ grounded?"

"Correct."

Jonny slowly stood up, picked up his book bag, "Did he get fired or just a written warning?"

"Verbal warning, there were no witnesses and it was innocuous, not a malicious intent." Benton fumed, then added, "Or at least that's their understanding of it."

The blond teen looked at his father again, still not believing him. Was he just waiting to get him home and tear into him where there were also no witnesses? That made far more sense.

"Come on, I'll drive you home."

Jonny smiled amiably, expecting the fury once they were alone in the car. He wondered if he'd even get slapped again, though technically if he _did_ it would be his own damn fault for calling in his _dad_ … He stiffened when his dad touched his shoulder.

Reflexively, he forced his body to relax. Bristling wouldn't get him out of anything, but it would probably set his dad off.

The hand didn't lift, it _felt_ gentle, even… like how it had felt years and years ago, the companionable constance.

Dr. Quest opened the passenger door for Jonny, only _then_ removing his hand.

'Right—it was so I didn't just run for the woods.' Jonny thought to himself. He again braced for the tirade to start once his dad got in the Land Rover and buckled in.

Without a word, he drove off the school premise.

By the first red light, Jonny was markedly uncomfortable.

"…Well?"

"Well what, son?"

Jonny eyed him suspiciously. "Okay, are you _not_ my dad? Or maybe from another dimension?"

Benton rolled his eyes, "No, it's _me_."

"Then why aren't you acting like _you_?"

His father looked out at the light, "And what's that like?"

Jonny kept looking at his dad and for witnesses, he went quiet, self-preservation one of his stronger points. Benton let the air hang heavy, not offering his own opinion or interjections.

"Why are you being so _quiet_? You're never this quiet—you're not the type to be _quietly_ mad or disappointed…"

"I'm not mad or disappointed, son."

"Why do you keep calling me son instead of my name? You're acting really, really weird."

Benton let out a light sigh and smiled, "I'm being quiet because I want to hear what _you_ have to say."

"In my defense?"

"No, you have nothing _to_ defend about that."

Jonny eyed his dad, concerned. Deeply concerned, if it's indefensible he was really hosed. He sank back into his chair. Or was he just so done with him he was going to write him off completely? What was his tact?

"… _I get it_." He said quietly to himself, though in the silent car, his dad could hear him, "You're guilting me now, it's really _my fault_ we that fight—so now you're expecting me to apologize… and _then_ you'll act normal again…"

"No, Jonny, that's not how I feel at all about Friday, but I want to hear how _you_ feel and not have my input sway that." He pulled into the main gate. "But I won't push you to tell me until you're ready to."

Jonny looked around the compound, Race wasn't anywhere visible, neither was Hadji.

"…I don't get it. Of _course_ you're still mad at me, now even more because yet again I can't even do the simplest of things to keep you happy like take AP Chemistry…"

Benton turned off the engine and turned to face him, waited.

"—I'm just your flub kid, the humbling proof that genetics is _quite_ fallible, but at least the _other_ one seems to be on target… not like she cares, but what, she'll come around? Once she gets over the shock of it all, or something…" He looked down at his own lap, his knuckles were white as he balled his fists, "And of _course_ I'm the goof, the dumb one, with all the stupid interests and that I'm not even _good_ at the things I _do_ like…" he brought his hands to his face trying desperately not to cave, not to get emotional, "No wonder everything I like is so lame to you. I'm just a crappy jock to you—and I'm not even particularly athletic… and the one think I _really_ like—you're right, it's a stupid, _stupid_ joke to think I'd ever be good enough at it… I'm never good enough at _anything_ … I'm never the _best_ at anything, even in as small of a sample size as a family of _five_ … the _only_ things I excel at are getting shot _at_ and _not_ actually getting shot…" His voice hitched. "Maybe if mom'd known _that_ she would've run _faster_ …"

"Jonny, that's _entirely_ unfair." His father rebuked gently. He flinched at the contact of his dad's hand on his cheek as it cupped his face. "Rachel—your mom loved you _so_ much, it _wasn't_ an option to chance your safety."

Jonny refused to let his face be coaxed upward, still expecting the blow at any moment, but really, he was taking enough blows just _talking_ about himself it would almost be redundant.

"…Well she made a mistake. I wish I _were_ dead."

Dr. Quest goldfished at that. With a strong tug, he pulled Jonny into a tight hug. "Well I sure as hell don't!" He said fiercely, he felt the teen's body recoil he'd _earned_ that with his own damnable temper.

"Congrats on your _second_ mistake." Jonny said dryly, trying to pull back, "First being _having_ me."

"You are _not_ a mistake. Your mom and I wanted you so desperately, we both love you—you lit up our _worlds_ when you were born…"

"Let go." Jonny again tried to get out of the tight hold, "I'm just useless—"

"—You're my _precious_ son that _I've_ failed countlessly. I _am_ a selfish man, I let my own hubris mask the damage of my own actions and inactions, and somewhere _you_ started paying the collateral for my own inability to _listen_ to something other than what I _expect_ to hear."

"…Let _go_ …"

He did, begrudgingly.

Jonny threw open the car door, clumsily trying to undo his seatbelt, his eyes stung with tears.

Benton removed his own seatbelt and went around the car by time Jonny managed to untangle himself. "That it took another person, an _adult_ not in my echo-chamber to show me how much of a hypocrite I'd been, Jonny…"

Jonny, out of the car, sat down hard on the ground. His own legs shaking as he vented all the frustrations he'd been holding in, all his own fears and perceptions.

"That I demanded an apology because you _liked_ how they listened and respected each other? I'm appalled at my own behavior—and that I _struck_ you, my most precious _child_ sickens me. I'm ashamed of myself. And I'm so grateful he stepped in when he had—I only wish he'd gotten there _sooner_."

He kneeled next to his son, the teen was sobbing, never an easy sight.

"I look at you and I see a resilient, resourceful, funny, loving, _smart_ , compassionate young man who makes _both_ of his parents so, _so_ proud, and that _you_ don't know that grieves me."

"I don't make you proud—I'm a good for nothing trouble-maker…"

"You are _not_ a good-for-nothing. You are a trouble-maker, but not by any means delinquent, you've used that _skill_ to get out of oh so many bad situations I actually find it admirable, though also a source of many of my own grey hairs."

He sniffled back, "…Really?"

"Absolutely." Jonny returned his view to the blurry driveway. "For all my public speaking skills, I wish I had even _half_ of your ability to relate to others. You're such a warm person, and we _all_ see that, son, you're the _easiest_ person to talk to about anything emotive in this house, and it does _you_ the disservice of not having anyone _that_ skilled there for you."

Jonny lifted his head to look at his dad.

"And I was unequivocally _wrong_ in what I said to you on Friday. I was an utmost heel. I can't take back those horrid things I said, but I was _wrong_. I spoke _and_ acted out of anger and frustration, it was inexcusable and I hurt you when all you were doing was being open, honest, and _trying_ to help me. It was unforgivable." Jonny swallowed hard. "I can't begin to apologize for how horribly I acted, but I _can_ work on my actions so you never feel that small again. Will you help me do that?"

"H… how?"

"Help me to communicate with you—and not just by talking about _my_ needs and interests—let's schedule a day every week where at a minimum of 2 hours we do something _you_ want, talk about what you want to talk about—or even a whole day, if your training can allow it."

Jonny frowned, he didn't believe him. It had to be a trap… a trick, a steer, or as Hadji would say sleight of hand.

"As today's free, we could start now."

The blond gawked, it _had_ to be a trap, or his dad was on that yo-yo cycle of guilt he got on occasionally.

Benton read the look on his son's face, "Or is it too much, today? You clearly haven't had time to decompress, and I said some truly reprehensible things to you. It's no wonder you hid your interests so thoroughly until now."

With a shiver, he forced himself to stand up. He didn't trust his own voice, let alone his dad's words. He tried to dry his face and salvage _some_ pride. How the ground felt so uneven he assumed correlated with how vacuous his stomach felt, sitting empty for far too long, it released a bellowing gurgle.

"Did you have enough breakfast?"

Jonny shook his head, in a small voice stated, "No… I got sick after what he'd said… I couldn't keep it down."

"Then would you like to grab some? We could go into town or stay here."

The outright suspicious glare he aimed at his dad, which he knew was none-too-subtle, went unacknowledged by his dad. Jonny saw Hadji coming down the driveway, the sudden pressure of a double-team made him internally recoil.

"Oh, Jonny, you came back home? Are you not feeling well?"

Hadji subtly positioned himself between his brother and his father, he really _was_ a meddler.

"…Not particularly." He shuffled toward the house.

"Perhaps you overdid your evening bicycle ride last night?" Hadji attempted civilly.

Not willing to give his brother any additional ammo, he shook his head. "No, it was a shorter ride." He gave the same bullshit answer last night, too.

"How far did you go? You were gone for 6 hours." Hadji provided.

"Not far. It was hilly riding." He eyed them both uncomfortably.

"Were you training for the triathlon?" Dr. Quest coaxed.

Out of sheer willpower Jonny managed to not roll his eyes, but he was _done_. He felt his legs trembling, "…" he steeled himself, there was a Winston Churchill quote about the trick about getting through hell. With a push to distance himself from this emotional train-wreck of a morning, he locked eyes with Hadji and then his dad and said in a diplomatic voice, "I usually do after I finish my school work."

"How many miles did you ride?" Hadji tried again, "You had said you were not hungry—did you make yourself sick by not replenishing?"

Continuing the course he'd set upon, he evaded, "I was more tired is all." What he was really tired of was being nagged and hounded by his family, he was annoyed at all the negative attention pushing into him.

Dr. Quest seemed to pick up on Jonny's impatience, even though he was masking it in icy diplomacy. "Hadji, could you ask Mrs. Evans to make up a breakfast plate for Jonny? We were discussing something."

"It did not _look_ as if you were, _father_." Hadji said in a mildly defiant manner.

"And yet, we were Hadji. Could you please ask her?"

He looked between Dr. Quest and Jonny, his brother seemed to be in some sort of shell-shock.

After a moment, Jonny let out a soft, "I'm _fine_ Hadji—it was only 40 miles, I've gone farther."

"40 miles? I thought triathlons were much shorter." Dr. Quest asked in disbelief, it was impressive.

"They are, but the terrain and the 'sprints' to be competitive—well, you have to over-train. That, and I want to work up to a half-ironman."

"Half Ironman?"

God, why wouldn't this just stop? He cleared his throat, "The full-track is 70.3 miles for the half. The ironman is 140.6 miles." Of course they wouldn't know a _thing_ about the sport, "I'm in an Olympic Triathlon again, that's about 1 mile swim, a 6 mile run, and 25 miles on the bike. As you noted before, I was at the end of the pack and I'd like to get to the middle or front by year-end. Then I can work to qualify for the half Ironman, you can't just _sign up_ for those."

Hadji let out a small breath to indicate he'd let Mrs. Evans know about the request, he gracefully ducked out.

"How often do you ride 40 miles?" He asked to keep the momentum.

"I dunno." Jonny lied, he went riding 3 days a week, "I do springs at least once a week, that's endurance work though."

"Sprints as in running?"

"…No, I run too, but I mean on the bike. I ride at least ten miles so I'm _tired_ and then I try to beat my best mile, I do that for about 5 miles, and then I have to ride back the rest, or I do strength training or tough terrain. If I'm practicing _running_ sprints, I hit the beach."

"Why there?"

Jonny laughed depreciably, "Because running as fast as you can on _sand_ is miserable. If you can make good time there, once you're on _good_ terrain it feels easy."

Benton wasn't sure he understood how any of this was _enjoyable_. "Are you improving your times?"

Jonny nodded, "Gradually. It's hard, but that's what makes it an accomplishment. Not _everyone_ can do it."

"That certainly is true, and even less teenagers can."

He shrugged, unwilling to take the compliment from his dad. He shivered again, it felt so cold today.

"Let's head in for a while, today _has_ been chilly," his dad noted. Inside the threshold of the mantle, a wave of cinnamon crashed into him.

"Mrs. Evans made oatmeal for you, Jonny." Hadji informed.

"Oh, thanks…" he said back to Hadji. He headed to the dining room where their housekeeper rushed to dote on him.

"Oh there you are, I heard you were feeling under the weather…" Jonny glanced at his brother, low-key pissed at the gossip. "The boys called to say you left school early—right before first period."

"Thanks Mrs. Evans, I'll be better with some rest I think…" he mumbled in a show of civility. He wondered if that would take him out of this episode of the Twilight Zone.

His eyes drifted to the wall clock, wondered if he could catch Venus on the phone, heck, even Darren.

As Race walked in, Jonny diverted his attention. He needed to cut out, this hot-cold change of being chopped liver to _everyone_ suddenly feeling compelled to _check up_ on him was getting to be overwhelming.

Race gave a casual, "Good morning," poured himself a cup of coffee and headed out the room as he passed him.

Jonny's shoulders lost some tension at it now being 3 for 4 instead of a larger party. He polished off a huge portion of oatmeal, stood gingerly to excuse himself—still deeply unnerved at his dad's hovering. "If you don't mind, I'd like to just get some sleep for a while…" he said politely.

"Sure," Dr. Quest added quickly, "At lunch, we can take a look, see if there's—"

"I'm not really up for that right now." He said without room to finagle. "I get it, you're sorry. But I don't _get_ you acting weird, and I know you'll drop the act in a few days anyway, so if it's all the same to _you_ , I'd rather you just go back to normal."

" _Normal_ isn't working," Benton said evenly, "you're unhappy, and I'm raising a stranger, so it isn't the same to me."

Jonny flinched, both Dr. Quest and Race caught that loud and clear.

"We can take it slower, that's alright. But there will be changes, I promise it will be for the _better_ —"

"Yeah, right." Jonny brushed off the dishonest comment, "Like always." Tiredly, he picked up his bowl and shuffled to the kitchen.

Race shot Benton a look, not saying a word until he head the kid on the stairs.

"So, you rushed?"

"Let it _never_ be said I'm _not_ eager." Benton said deflated.

"Did he work himself sick?" Race asked near rhetorically.

"He's already stressed himself there, then he took a 40 mile bike ride last night, didn't eat, and _then_ got into a row with the AP Chemistry teacher who wanted to make him my understudy as well."

"Benton, he looks _depressed_ , and I don't mean _sad_ , I _mean_ depressed."

"I concur." He pinched his brows at the bridge of his nose, "He told me he wished he were dead. And the triathlon training sounds more _masochistic_ than pleasurable…"

"Yeah, well—it's probably a mixed bag on that. He's driving for results, _and_ probably taking out his frustrations on his own body in a way he can control, but I've _never_ seen signs of self-harm on him and believe me, I watch for it with all the trauma he's been through."

"Why _self_ -harm when your dad'll do it _for_ you." Benton said in frustration.

Race poured him a cup of coffee, "He _does_ need space, and to be the one to approach. Just give him those _chances_."

"I switched him into an art class from AP Chemistry, his teacher was an absolute buffoon."

"Yeah…?"

"Yes. He didn't even read his student profile—he was patronizing him, calling him John, he didn't even know he'd lost his _mother_ and _talked_ to me about how I should tell her to stop _coddling_ him."

Race let out a long whistle, "And yet, I'm not paying out a bail-bond, so that breathing exercise worked I take it?"

"Not flawlessly; however, it made me feel even worse, I recognize the outside world forces him into my shadow, but then _I_ do it to him too. Remind me that he has the patience of Sisyphus if I _ever_ try to call him elsewise."

Race nodded, took a sip of his own refreshed cup of coffee. "Of which, we need to chat with the kids about giving him his space. I know it seems counter-intuitive, that he's felt ignored and excluded, but if it goes into smothering it _won't_ feel authentic. We'll need to keep it to 1 on 1 for most things, maybe the kids can do 2 on 1 _sometimes_ , but overwhelming him with changes, especially in light to the one change he's excited about? It could drive him into himself."

"Except that, as you also pointed out, it's obvious he has depression."

Race nodded, "I could reach out to Phil about finding a counselor, around here, it'll just be more the same—you'd be hero-worshipped and _he'd_ feel overshadowed."

"Does his brother _have_ a psych degree? That's a person he'd feel _would_ take his side."

Race shrugged, "One heckuva devil's wager, Benton. I'd also like to take a crack at it, I may ask to accompany him on his training."

"That sounds like a great idea, if he'll accept."

"I'm _not_ fond hearing he's doing bike sprints on 20 miles. _That_ wears down a body."

"He's also sprinting on beached and riding rough terrain…"

"He's not wrong about _that_ , but all of it together is overexertion as a form of internal corporal punishment. That's got earmarks of self-harm."

Benton nodded glumly. "He has this down to a science, this has been going on for a while, hasn't it?"

Race grimaced a nod, "Looks like it."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Jonny hit the lights as he pulled his pajamas and changed into sleepwear.

He really did wonder if he'd fallen through the mirror, or somehow stepped out of Kansas. Was it possible? Did that slap, that whole argument, shift him to an alternate reality? Ugh, theoretical astrophysics wasn't even his bag. He ached.

Silently, Jonny wondered how he lucked into Mrs. Hanes' class? His dad didn't realize he really had _wanted_ to take that, did he?

…No, no he had wrote that out for his class schedule before his dad forced him into taking AP Chem, the only free slots for each were 8th period. At least that made sense. His stomach ached.

"…Please just keep it _down_ …" he pleaded to his own organs. Lying in bed, he felt gnawed by anxiety.

That sense of self and sense of others—ego v. super-ego, it was such a constant attack on his own identity and he hated himself when he folded and then had to carve out another path only for _it_ to also be a disappointment. How often could that really happen before the stark reality set in that _he_ is simply the disappointment, anyway? This trend had been going on for _years_ now.

He suspected the grounding would come once he caught up in art class and got his report card, _then_ his dad would be back in normal mode and _then_ this whole identity versus ideal would come back full swing and really catch up with him.

He hated that he wasn't enough to please his dad, but at least he had the others—the worthy substitutes. Rolling onto his stomach, he curled into his pillow trying desperately to shut down these thoughts and just _sleep_ , at least by 3 he could call someone, a true neutral—hell, maybe a true ally to _his_ hopes and ambitions.

He'd only ever _clicked_ so instantly with Hadji, Venus really was his sister… yet oddly, he didn't feel required to share—she _wasn't_ Hadji's sister. She _wasn't_ Jessie's friend, either.

Smiling, he closed his eyes, in sense it was like his _mom_ was somehow restored, or at least that kind of blood connection, shit, it's not like he had _that_ with his dad. God, how was he so fucked up?

Cuddling into the pillow in fetal position, he realized acutely just how lonely he'd been since April now. "Bandit…? Here boy." He muffled, his dog obliged.

With his dog lying plumply over the back of his legs, he fell inro a shallow sleep.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Hours into the day, Dr. Quest looked over journals in his study, he made the conscious effort to keep to a neutral territory even as he pursued his own goals.

"Race, it's about lunch time, would you wake him up? Maybe he'd be receptive to talk with you?"

Race gave him a half-smile, "The trick _isn't_ to push. It's to be open to _being_ pushed." He rose, "But I'll wake him up, what's on the menu."

"I asked Mrs. Evans to make a pot pie."

He nodded, "Alright, I'm going in."

Benton laughed at the agent humor. "If you need extraction, I'm sorry to say you're on your own."

Race winked, "It'll be okay. Just remember—don't push, let _him_ steer."

"I'll most certainly try."

As the white-haired man went to the teen's door, he gave a firm knock. "Jonny, lunch is ready kiddo. Time to wake up, are you decent?"

Jonny rolled in his bed, "Hmmm…?"

Race knocked again. "I'm coming in, is that alright?"

He cracked his eyes open, "Huh? Race?"

"Yeah, it's me. May I come in?"

Groggily, he sat up, "I guess." He pulled his t-shirt down from his midriff back to his hip, it had rode up his side as he slept.

As he got up, he remade his bed, his bodyguard entered the room.

He wished there was such a thing as a psycheguard, someone diving in front of pot-shots about their hopes and fears. He looked at Race, eyes still encrusted with sleep-sand. "Something wrong?" He asked as he rubbed away the last traces of his restorative nap.

"Lunch is ready, you hungry?" He asked, listening to but not engaging with his question. A _vacuum_ was a better extraction than a challenge.

Jonny shrugged, "Not really, my stomach's kinda wonky. At least that fits in with Bizarro world here."

"I can see how it can feel like that. What's the strangest part?"

Rolled eyes gave him a feedback that _he_ was pushing his luck. "…At least you're acting mostly normal. Though, why it's like you're walking on eggshells, I dunno…" he shook his head.

"Huh, I didn't think I was kiddo. I _do_ try to respect your boundaries, you know."

He nodded, "Yeah, _you_ do…" He mumbled, "wish the others could borrow a page from that…"

"How did someone overstep your boundaries?" He asked with precision. There were several answers that came to his mind, if Jonny'd tell him he'd at least have an in-road.

Blond hair moved with his shrug, "Same old, same old. At least my door has a lock." He stretched gingerly. "Then again, it _also_ has an easily accessible key…" He referenced how IRIS could override the lock by voice command of _any_ family member.

"Well, that's for safety reasons, you never know what could happen under a siege."

"Privacy is overrated, right?" He scoffed, "At least everyone would get a five minute warning."

Race understood the gallows humor, though the implications weren't great. Of late, Jonny had been spending most of his time alone, _lonely_ , so he'd be targeted first, that's what he was saying between the lines.

"Kiddo, I've gotta ask pointblank, I'm worried about you. How long have you been feeling excluded?"

Jonny looked at him in disoriented shock, as if he'd momentarily become visible, he looked down, "A… while, I guess."

"And how long have you been feeling lonely and unable to talk to _me_ about it?"

His lips trembled, eyes welling, he whispered, "…Probably since Jessie came to stay…" it felt like such an awful sentiment, Jessie was one of his best friends, but gaining that was at the cost to another close relation—he and Race had put a whole level in between them in that move.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. "You can _always_ come talk to me, kiddo. You know that, right?"

He shook his head mutely, in a low whisper corrected him, "No, I can't. Everyone's always so busy, then it's just me and Bandit…"

"I mean it, Jonny. I could you as one of my _closest_ friends, you can always come by to talk. Sure, if I'm in the middle of something I'd have to wrap it up, but _you matter_ to me."

"…Really?"

"Yes, really. I know with Ponchita it shifted _our_ dynamic a bit, but _not_ how I feel toward you."

"Race, that doesn't feel _true_ , though." His voice pitched to a higher tone in his whisper, "I feel left behind _all_ the time now… no one cares—I mean, they do care, but not about _me_ the individual, but me as part of the collective—like I'm _intellectual property_ instead of a _person_ …"

Race pulled him into a bear hug.

"Kid, if anything happened to you, I'd feel _gutted_ , and I can promise you, everyone here would too. What you're going through— _finding_ yourself—that's normal. It's _normal_ to have different interests and pursuits, it's _good_ to explore your options. Yes, we've all been stretched thin about 'outside' topics, but we've also been downright myopic to _your_ needs and that's been incredibly unfair."

He released Jonny from the hug, the boy was trembling something terrible.

"You aren't _sensitive_ because you've felt excluded, you _were_ excluded. Not _intentionally_ , of course, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that we find a way that you _aren't_ excluded and you don't _feel_ lonely or depressed or anxious."

His eyes shot wide at the last two bullets as he watched the floor.

"H-how did you know I've been depressed and anxious?"

"Believe it or not, I _do_ watch you, _and_ I notice when you're not your plucky self. You're a happy-go-lucky type, not to say you're _brooding_ , but you've been downtrodden for a while now."

"I didn't _tell_ anyone I've been having anxiety."

"That's why your stomach's really upset, isn't it?"

He nodded, still refusing to lock eyes.

"Is that why you've been hurting yourself?"

Jonny's head shot up to shoot Race with a glare. "I'm doing no such thing!"

Race softened, "Maybe not consciously, but you're _training_ yourself very differently than when _I_ was helping you train. It's escapism, Jonny. You're over-exercising to get the endorphin high and then you're crashing. That's not going to build your strength, you _know_ that."

Silently, Race waited for Jonny's reply. There was a strong chance he'd be _asked_ to politely get the fuck out of his room.

This arms wrapped around his own waist as Jonny looked down, "I'm _not_ hurting myself, I'd never be so weak-willed as to do that. I'm training _up_ so I can eventually do the half Ironman. Now even _you_ don't get it…" He shook his head, walked out of his room toward the dining room, "So it's a gilded cage, huh? And this week you want to gawk and notice the canary you have shoved in it? Fine. You'll get bored soon enough, then it'll be _normal_ again and you'll go back to forgetting I exist until there's a doomsday cult or a monster or a kidnapping attempt or _whatever_. _Fine_ , I'll play along but just let me keep my word to my sister and visit for Halloween and I'll cooperate with this _farce_."

"We _all_ want you to get to know her, too, and this is _not_ a farce. Let us make it up to you about our own short sightedness and learn a _better_ rhythm that _includes_ you and _your_ interests."

He fixed his tone to only sound mildly sarcastic instead of scathing, "Of course you will. Because _everyone_ says so…" He sat at the table and waited for Hadji and his dad to round out the table, he saw Race exit the room. Maybe he was meant to take lunch alone? Fuck, he couldn't keep up with their mind-games.

After five minutes, Hadji came in and sat cattycorner to his brother.

"Are you feeling more rested, Jonny?"

Jonny took a calming breath, it's the Stepfords, _that's_ the bizarre world he fell into.

"Why yes, thank you. I feel a bit better but still a bit queasy. I hope I didn't pick up a stomach bug." He said in dripping diplomacy, maybe if he played the roll he'd cope with _their_ farce better. Think of it like a posting, be polite, be civil, be charming—and stick to _half_ -truths. No giving it away for free—it's _always_ a negotiation.

He smiled in a gentile way as he fidgeted with his silverware to line them for a more formal table-setting. He clasped his hands in his lap to wait.

"I am sorry you feel unwell. Would you like to play a game to pass the time? Cards perhaps? Or Questworld if you would rather?"

Focusing on breathing normally, he pushed down his frustrations, as he _often_ did, "Oh, you fancy a game of cards? Could I sway you to play chess instead? Would that do?"

He'd crush him. He'd do it slow, but in chess, he'd _destroy_ his brother. He smiled politely, face mute of his true annoyance.

"That would be wonderful, let us do so after lunch."

"Alright, I'm looking forward to it."

Hadji studied his brother's calm demeanor, his _front_. Though he looked perfectly calm and civil, the tension he carried in his body made Hadji wonder if he was having a panic attack and was actively trying to hide it from them.

"Are dad and Race planning to join us? The table _is_ set for four."

"Ah, yes, Race needed to speak with father about something pressing, they should return shortly. Shall we wait?"

"But of course, it'd the polite thing to do." He gave a lackluster smile that didn't hit his eyes.

"…You are acting very odd, Jonny. Are you sure you are alright?"

"Am I?" He diverted.

Race and Dr. Quest came into the room, Dr. Quest looked pale as his eyes raked over Jonny from behind him. The teen looked perfectly composed, and absolutely not like he was an anxious mess, but _that_ was the kicker. His son _never_ acted that civilly, and his knuckles were white from squeezing his hands so hard.

He sat down next to Jonny.

"Pardon me."

Race took the other position next to Hadji. "Mrs. Evans made a chicken pot pie," Race informed, slicing into the pie tin. As he plated the second slice, Hadji handed the first toward Jonny.

Jonny handed it to his father, not eager for such a large portion.

"Thank you," he replied in kind.

Race made a smaller slice, "Not very hungry, Jonny?"

"No, sir." He said in a polite chill.

Race put the half-slice on a plate and handed it directly to him then continued to carve out two normal sized portions for Hadji and himself.

"I can't remember the last time just we fellows sat down for lunch at the house." Race offered cordially.

Jonny tapped the silverware to align it with the dish, not particularly enthralled by the topic.

Benton took the hint, "It _has_ been a while, a few months at least."

Hadji lifted his silverware to make the first cut into his lunch. The others followed suit, though Jonny doddled.

Working at half their speed, he'd managed to pace them up until Hadji and Race went for seconds.

He slowly sipped on his water, desperate to unrile his stomach. "…Well, you have been busy with work lately, certainly." Jonny replied indifferently.

Benton was well aware that the indifferent tone was _not_ an indifferent feeling, he'd made that mistake before. "We've all been quite busy, how have classes been going?"

He watched his son's jaw tightly lock as he forced a smiled. "I'd say eventfully." He set his glass down, maneuvered his napkin.

He wasn't making eye contact, at most, he was watching the others' mouths to appear as if he were being attentive.

"I know you missed the field trip last week, but is there a project affiliated with it?"

Jonny slowly glanced toward _his_ jaw now, then back to his plate setting. "Yes, it's a group project. TK, Bobby, and Matt are in my group. We've already drafted up the key points and divided up the work."

"Oh? What is the project on, specifically?"

Jonny's painfully thin smile read loudly just how _excited_ he was that he hadn't even _read_ the trip waiver to know it was for a Wicked paper.

"On the play." He said in an animated mimicry of contentment. He looked back at his dad's jawline, "They went to see Wicked. The themes were open, so I suggested a comparison of how the motivations shift by adding the narrative of Wicked to the Wizard of Oz canon as Mr. McGregor suggests is relevant."

He turned back to his setting and took up more water, sucking down the drink, he felt his stomach vault on him violently. His eyes coasted over the others' dishes as they slowed.

"And your project? How is that going?" he asked in a banal tone of civil discourse. His eyes drifted back over his father's mouth.

"Oh, same old, same old." His father replied, clearly not willing to derail the topic to his own interests. "What are you tasked with for your paper?" He redirected.

"Galinda the Good, and precisely why she maintained decorum with the Wicked Witch of the West even though in Dorothy's perspective, she was evil."

"Ah, the class good v. evil theme turned, that sounds very advanced. And the others? Which characters are they tasked with?"

Jonny closed his eyes as his stomach continued to constrict in severe discomfort. He opened his eyes with a snap, diplomats worked _through_ this shit.

"The political climate of the Emerald City then and in the Wizard of Oz in TK's piece, Matt is focusing on the Wicked Witch of the West, and Bobby on the religious cimate and how they all interconnect will be the conclusion, which we'll work on together. We each have a ten-page docket, and then the tying theme will be a group report in class."

"Public speaking?" Dr. Quest noted, he wondered if he _should_ let his drop before his son fractured a tooth.

"Why yes. Luckily, we've successfully navigated away from performance art." Jonny cast his eyes slowly to Race and Hadji to assess just how much longer this would go. "Hadji, what have you been working on?" He tried to change the subject off of himself.

"This and that." Hadji said in similar suit to Dr. Quest's earlier shrug.

Jonny caught Race toe Hadji for excessive deflection, he pretended his didn't notice, "How's your mom?" He smiled, tried another track.

"Quite well, she is working with several foreign aid groups to improve maternal survival rates in rural areas of our province."

"That's wonderful, Hadji." Benton smiled, "If she has any additional needs that the charities can't complete, please tell her that we'd be happy to work in those spaces through the Quest Enterprises."

"Thank you, Dr. Quest." Hadji smiled politely, and genuinely happy.

Jonny clutched his fists, exhausted, a cold sweat on the back of his neck.

"You look a little pale, do you need a moment?" Race asked the youngest.

"If I _may_ be excused…" he said, he counted how many steps and sprinting steps between the bathroom, near certain his earlier issue would return.

"You're excused." Benton acknowledged, eyed Race then Jonny.

The blond pushed himself upright, casually carried his plate to the kitchen, took the side exit at the normal clip then rushed to the nearest bathroom.

He lost his lunch to the porcelain bowl. Strategically, he _should_ have went further, _his_ bathroom- or at least the kids' communal bathroom. He shook as his stomach continued to pulse, as he tasted bile he hoped it would end, but there was no such optimism in this round.

Finally exhausted, his stomach unflexed, tender, he flushed then swayed to the sink. He rinsed his mouth, his throat felt tight, rebellious to _any_ unwarranted entry to port.

With his anxiety this bad, he wondered what he had as options… 'Benedril?' He asked himself silently.

In few moments of his life did he ever _want_ to have medication, but on this one, it was _almost_ worth the trouble of talking to Race about it. Almost.

Anything said there would just be funneled anyway. How was it possible to go from 0 to 100 at a flip of a switch like that?! Had he the energy for it, he'd have hid out on the cover, find solace in caves natural abilities to hinder GPS signals. He watched his own gaunt, hallowed face.

'Well, I look like shit… at least I can always play _that_ card if I need to unlatch from these weirdo imposters.' He smirked, 'Nah, not imposters… just _same old_ hypocrites. Same old's _right_. Done _this_ before.'

He washed his face vigorously, scrounged the medicine cabinet and hit pay-dirt. He popped one Benedril, dry-swallowed despite his stomach's protest, and chewed through two Tums for good measure.

As he closed up the cabinet, he reminded himself the importance of practicing. He was _still_ too obvious in everything. His dad was right that he had the stealth of an elephant in Manhattan… also apparent was how gouache he had been, he'd worn his PJs to lunch.

It's hard to be _mad_ at accurate critiques.

He shook his head at his own reflection, "You're an idiot." He said to himself, tiredly.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Hadji waved toward Jonny as the blond slogged toward his own room.

"Jonny, there you are."

He smiled tiredly, "That I am."

"Are you…"

"Just still a bit under the weather, thanks." He reminded.

"Ah, yes, _your stomach_ …" Hadji reiterated his lie. With a haggard smile, the bags under Jonny's eyes emphasized it was at least half-way accurate. "If you would like to rest—"

'Desperately.' Jonny thought, but waited for him to spring the trap.

"—We could play chess in your room?"

He realized that would box him in. "And miss the view from the sun room? I can manage _that much_."

"Oh, well then," Hadji redirected, he wanted some privacy and the sun room would offer that.

Jonny continued toward the room, "Could you grab the board?" He asked in a kind tone, that was better.

"Of course."

He knew Hadji played knight-heavy and bishop-heavy. He formulated his strategy accordingly. Catching himself half-lidded, he snapped open his eyes. He'd _play_ and humor his brother, and remind him that he's not a _complete_ idiot. He was, after all, missing some pieces. Then he'd go to sleep, and by time he'd wake up, he'd give his sister a call, see how _her_ day was.

Bitterly, he realized he didn't even _want_ to talk about his own. He pulled out a padded chair near a small side table and jockeyed a second padded chair to sit across from it.

Hadji joined a moment later.

"I'll play as black." Jonny volunteered, "You go first."

"Oh, you do not wish to draw for it?"

"Nope, thanks." He shrugged, there never was a competition to go _second_.

"I have been playing against IRIS in Questworld. It will be nice to have a different opponent." Hadji said warmly.

'I built that software, and that was _without_ grand master games…' he thought, smiled politely, "Really? Great! It's been so long since we've played, I'm glad you won't be rusty."

"And you? Will you be rusty?"

He shrugged, "It'll come back to me." He said non-committedly. Maybe he _should_ crush him faster. Not that he wanted to toy with him, he just wanted to offer proof that he _wasn't_ as stupid as they all treated him.

When they were younger, Jonny never demolished his brother, he'd always make it look neck and neck, sometimes throwing it to keep it fair. He was sure his family didn't realize it, you had to _notice_ a person to realize their own actions. He say back into the chair.

He decided to win in 10 moves.

"Just one game though, okay?"

"Sure, Jonny." Hadji grinned, thinking about how to stretch it for a while. "How are TK, Bobby, and Matt? You have not brought them over in a long time."

'No shit I haven't…' he concentrated on setting up the board. When was he supposed to? After the 'active threat' that followed him home from Paris? Or when he was grounded for the rest of summer, 'under house arrest', or maybe for his birthday—shit, they hadn't even bothered to celebrate that this year. Not like he could blame them for not wanting to. Or was the flight out to New York what counted for that?

"They're good, TK keeps asking if we have hover jetskis… and the Evans twins say eating their mom's cooking at someone else's house is just weird." He shirked his shoulders, "They have a point, plus I'd imagine it's awkward to visit a friend's house and have your mom there."

Hadji eyed the blond unsure of how sensitive he was to the topic.

'Keep pitying me, you smug asshole…' He gave Hadji a friendly smile that reached his eyes and seemed to set Hadji at ease. At least he was getting better at faking it.

Hadji moved a knight out first, ignoring Hadji's Reti move, he pushed out a pawn to start a fishing pole trap and checkmate.

By time Hadji realized he'd been led by the nose, Jonny had him in checkmate. He'd done it in 8 moves.

Hadji looked at the board, options depleted, he tipped his king. "When did you become so accomplished at chess, Jonny?"

"Huh? I'm _not_." He said dismissively, acting as if it had been a fluke instead of a willful assassination. Forcing himself up, Jonny slipped the pieces back into the container before carrying it in.

"…Jonny are you intentionally avoiding me?" Hadji asked in an even affect.

"How'd it go from us playing one round to me avoiding you? That's hardly fair, particularly when the last time we've hung out by _your_ request instead of mine's been _well_ _before_ summer." He sighed, "Now all of a sudden I _exist_ again outside of the lighthouse—and hell, even there I _only_ seemed to exist when it _broke down_. Maybe, Hadj, I just don't feel up to being the focus of a _fad_. Don't worry, you'll work it out of your systems soon enough." With a shrug and twist of his upper lip he added, "I'm not mad about anything, and I get why I've been on the backburner with you and Jess, but I _don't_ like being jerked around or made into some object; great, dad feels guilty that he slapped me… well, okay then. Now _everyone_ wants to notice me and that I've been worn down for a _while_? Well that's _nice_ and all, but I didn't _ask_ for that. Aim your guilt elsewhere, it's not on _me_ to make all of you feel better for being cruddy to me of late. _That's_ exactly what you're trying to force me to do, you know!"

He shook his head.

"It's bad enough I _have_ to deal with dad doing it, but _ALL_ of you are dog-piling. It's overwhelming, so if you don't mind terribly, your stupid little brother is going to go to his room and I don't want company, I don't want to be subjected to a coerced conversation, or some staged intervention of 'so you're an angsty teenager now…' because I'm not. You like to gossip so much, do me a favor and spread _that_."

"Gossip…?" Hadji asked unsure. "For asking father why _you_ and _only you_ stayed behind?! Has it not occurred to _you_ that _you_ were being selfish?"

Jonny rolled his eyes, "Of course I am, Hadji. Of _course_ I am." He shook his head as he reentered the main living quarters and proceeded straight to his room, then locked and braced the door shut soundlessly.

He felt abysmal, he put on his warmest pair of pants, socks, and layered his t-shirt, sweater, and pulled on a light jacket and sneakers. There'd be no rest _here_ , that was abundantly clear.

Pulling on a hat, he _could_ probably have some peace and quiet on the roof if he were careful about it. He didn't have it in him for _anymore_ hokey, insincere bullshit and Jessie still hadn't had _her_ turn.

As impatient as he was, he didn't see how they'd all overlooked that. He laughed, "Oh right, because I'm invisible 90% of the _time_." He groaned, "Couldn't make it an even 100%, huh Quest?" He belittled.

Jonny pulled out a notebook and pen, an analog diary since IRIS could be accessed _far_ too easily by snoops when inclined, he could think to himself for a bit. Opening his window, he slipped the notebook into his rear pocket and scaled the wall to reach the gabled part of the roof.

He leaned back until he was comfortable then pulled out his notebook and mindlessly sketched. The random sea birds were good motivation.

"Damn today sucks." He thought aloud as his hand moved to tone the image. He'd love nothing more than his anxiety level to drop off, but instead he'd been smothered all day by disingenuous people feeding their own savaged egos for realizing _they'd_ been being selfish, yet now _he_ was selfish for not absorbing _their_ fucking guilt?! For not abdicating their onus in their own actions.

He chided himself, swearing wouldn't help him. No need to get yelled at in addition to being thrust back into the lime-light, though he'd be more familiar with that kind of dressing-down. He'd known he hadn't been _fine_ for a while, but now that it was common knowledge it was just another way to look down on him.

'Oh he's _so_ irrational and emotional and sensitive….' He mocked, "Like they even know me. Dad's raising a _stranger_." He closed his eyes, dozing off in the crisp air.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

With a chill, Jonny opened his eyes to see the dimming sky. He sat up carefully and rubbed his hands for warmth. _That_ had done the trick, his nerves were back under control.

Rolling his neck, he stretched as he yawned. Today had been one helluva rollercoaster, he also managed to alienate at least 80% of the family, not like _they_ shouldn't have a taste every so oft. Know what _he_ lived off a majority of the time.

Still watching the sky, he recognized the beauty of dusk.

"Well, I better go back in." He scoffed, "Lest I be _missed_ , riiiiight. I better be extra careful too, imagine if I fell off the roof, they'd claim it was a suicide attempt with how crazy they've been acting… _self-harm_ my _foot_."

He eased himself back into his window after climbing down the stone face.

The room had a chill from keeping the window open, not that he cared, not today at least. He closed the window and hung up his jacket, hid the notebook in a rear drawer and then undid the barricade but left the lock engaged.

Phone in hand, he shot off a text message to Venus.

"How's your dad sis?"

His phone buzzed near immediately. "Bored. So so so bored. Bed rest sux!"

He laughed, texted back, "Had I known I'd have called u earlier."

His phone rang. "H-hello?" He answered, shocked by the speed of the dial.

"I'm home all week, probably two. What did you do today?"

He flinched. "…Dropped AP Chemistry and systematically had a blow-up with everyone in the house, I think."

She laughed, "Ow! Ow…" she suppressed, "You _think_? It couldn't be _that_ bad if you're not _sure_ you did it."

Jonny laughed at that, "Oh, no I'm _sure_ I pissed off Hadji. He called me selfish, but I did _crush_ him in chess, it's the little things in life that count."

"…"

He felt like they were talking face to face, like she wanted more backstory and was waiting on it.

"…Dad's trying to be attentive now. It'll last a month, _maybe_. This morning I skipped out early so I could just get through the day without the drama and failed epically. Jess is pissed I didn't wait for her, the Chem teacher tried to manipulate me into presenting one of dad's papers _all_ while calling me the wrong name, _bonus_ he told me my mom'd get used to calling me John once I grew up…" he laughed darkly, "It was so bad that I decided I'd _rather_ dead with dad thinking I'm a complete imbecile versus deal with _that guy_ … then I got sick, came home, and have been living in the Twilight Zone where everyone wants to be my _besssst friennnnnd_ and _talk_ like we do _all_ the time because that's how it's _always_ been instead of just a knee-jerk overcorrection every time they realize they don't actually give a shit about me most of the time."

"…Out of sight, out of mind?" She asked in deference.

"Yeah… plus Race accused me of self-harm and I've been having and anxiety attack _all_ day."

"Eh, well, my drugs are keeping _me_ mellow. So I have that going. Dad dropped in some movies and is working from home so he can be at my _every whim_ , his words, not mine—said whims have been breakfast, lunch, early dinner, and cocoa. Ian and Alex are going to stay at the school until I'm better enough to _not_ need dad to hover."

"So they have a ride?"

"Basically. Alex sent me a list of my homework, little liar is trying to give me _his_ work."

"Wow, that's ingenious." Jonny laughed.

"…So, did he cut into you yesterday too?"

"No. I avoided them better yesterday, but Hadji pounced on me last night, and… well… that facilitated today."

"Huh…" She said thoughtfully, "You mind if I call dad in?"

"No, you do what you need… do you want me to call you back?"

"No, I mean to talk to _you_. He has a tendency to know how to mitigate _thiiiiiings_."

"…Things?"

"Thiiiiiiiings." She nodded, drawled it out. He heard a bell ringing.

"Oh my god, you're _kidding_ … he gave you a _bell_?" He laughed.

"Cutesy, I know, bonus if he pisses me off I can throw it at him… just kidding. Maybe."

"Wow, you _are_ on good drugs."

"Oh hardly. They aren't IV, now _that's_ the good shit."

He heard the door open and what sounded like Darren asking, "You okay baby? Whatcha need?"

"Dad, Jonny's on the line, can you chat for a bit with him?"

"…Is he okay? What about?"

He heard the phone travel.

"Hey-oh, Venus, you want some cocoa?"

"Sure."

He heard ruffling and what sounded like a kiss as the phone muffled with motion, the door shut with a soft click.

"So Jonny, what's up?"

"Hi Mr. Kiers…"

"Squirt, call me Darren, I'm _way_ younger than your uppity dad _AND_ Race, so don't go trying to make me feel _old_."

He laughed, "Oh, okay Darren. Venus said I should talk to you, I dunno what specifically about…"

"Talk about…?"

" _Thiiiiings_ , as she said."

"Ohh, right, _things_. She's on _good_ pain meds."

Jonny laughed audibly, "I know, right!"

"Now you're smiling, that's better."

"Yeah, you can tell?" He smiled harder despite himself.

Darren gave a curt, "Uh-huh, so what had you feeling down?"

"I landed in the Stepford Suburbs…"

"Oh, they're overcompensating, huh?"

"Yeahhhhhh… you could say that."

"And driving you up a creek?"

"No, not at _all_ …" he dripped the sarcasm. "But my brother thinks I'm selfish for _not_ wanting to absorb all their guilt as they try to shoehorn their way into being active participants in my life."

"…Ouch." Darren lit a cigarette, "Well, try not to kill them, as I always tell my princess, _she_ could handle disposal of that many bodies, but _you_ are a bit of a novice there. Nothing personal."

Jonny laughed harder, "I don't want to do _that_ , I just want them to act _normal_."

"Do you, though?"

"Okay, let me amend that, _more_ normal, I don't like coerced, fake sentiment. Dad's _suddenly_ interested in my studying the arts and triathlons… on a plus side, I _did_ get to drop AP Chem with that total jerk Mr. Stevens."

"Well, that's good at least, what'd it cost you?"

" _Way_ too much privacy. He made me talk about Friday… and wouldn't just _lecture_ … I _know_ he's disappointed, and now instead of just having to _hear_ it, _I_ have to fill in the speech…"

"Maybe he _isn't_ disappointed, Jonny?"

"No, he is. I dropped it because that pompous jerk wouldn't call me _my_ name and wanted to make me _present_ on dad's paper even though _no one else_ has to present _anything_." He sighed, " _Then_ the jerk grabbed my arm when I said I'd drop his class if I could…"

"Okay, pro-tip—your dad _ISN'T_ lecturing you because he put _hands_ on you. If _anyone_ touched my kid, nah… he's not lecturing you because he's just glad he didn't have to pay bail today."

"…Dad's not like that, Darren. He's a pacifist, unless it's me being annoying…"

"No way, don't try lying to _me_ , I'm _way_ better at the art of interrogations for it. Your dad was an absolute ass to you on Friday, but he's the kind of ass that _doesn't_ believe in sharing. He's protective of you, even when he's an asshole, which is good because he seems like he's _regularly_ an asshole."

Jonny laughed depreciatively, "You think?"

"So do you. I mean that he's protective _and_ a jerk."

"…Race told me he doesn't like me being depressed and anxious… said he thought I was self-harming…"

"Mehhhhh… we _all_ have vices, what'd he say yours were?"

"I took a 40 mile bike ride yesterday."

"…You're training for a triathlon? Half Ironman or what?"

"Olympic, but I _want_ to be good enough to do the half."

"And you did it tired and upset?"

"…Yes sir."

"Shit you two really _are_ twins." He laughed, "Eh, pushing yourself to the brink just to prove you _can_ isn't necessarily self-harm, but it _is_ self-destructive to not take care to recover. If you're _aware_ of it, and I mean that you're _pushing_ yourself harder than you should—but it's to get _better_ , not to punish yourself… well, that's just drive."

He pulled a pot out from a drawer.

" _But_ it's also _his_ job to keep you from hurting yourself, and just like your dad probably overdoes lab work—what, 7 day binders without sleep—if Phil's believable, Race is probably trying to keep you from _stupid-_ overdoing it versus _challenging yourself_ overdoing it."

"…Really?"

"Maybe. He's a damn goody-two-shoes like Phil, but he _does_ care."

"Darren, thanks for talking me through it."

"Fughettaboutit, you're a good guy, you making it up for Halloween?"

"I hope so, sir."

"I can see you're polite, but do me a solid, I _hate_ being called sir. Darren's more than fine, plus you sound _way_ too much like your sister for it to sound respectful."

"…Huh?"

Darren laughed, "Think about when you've had to call _your_ dad _sir_ when you weren't feeling it—you know how much of a little shit you sounded like to _yourself_? To your dad, it's be times 100, that's how _sir_ sounds like from _her always_. I raised my kid with a healthy sense of authority figures."

"…That… somehow doesn't seem true."

"Oh, it's _plenty_ healthy to be insubordinate and take _no one's_ shit. Well, 'til you get knifed for it." His voice lilted the caveat.

"…" Jonny wasn't comfortable _laughing_ at that.

"Anyhow, I'm about to drug her some more with hot cocoa. Feel free to call whenever, I'll text you _my_ number too, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks again Darren. Tell her I said good night?"

"Sure, keep on trudging through, it'll get easier _and_ better… but you gotta put in the hours."

"Okay."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Begrudgingly, Jonny made his way to the dinner table.

He felt somewhat recharged, _and_ his stomach was far kinder now that it had been earlier today.

While he _did_ feel embarrassed that the others knew he felt depressed and anxious, it _was_ just his family, and families usually had that much information. In perspective, it wasn't _that_ big of a deal, so maybe he _had_ been teenage-angsting?

More relaxed, he carried his more natural, resting happy-go-lucky muted smile as he headed into the dining room.

He swallowed thickly as his eyes swept the room, it was as cheery as a _funeral_ , Jessie was fuming, Hadji was doing his calm-pissed thing where he made cobras look cuddly, and his dad and Race had looks of consternation… His shoulders slumped, it was definitely too late to turn around.

"Damn…" he hushed under breath. He didn't even hear the bell chime for round # 6.

"Well, this'll be a pleasant dinner." He said in jest, more for his own encouragement than to change the outcome, oh—and there was his good buddy anxiety sidling up to give him a hug.

Jessie crossed her arms and turned her head away from him. "I can't _believe_ you! You _dropped?!_ _Quitter_."

He rolled his eyes upward and blew out a sigh, "Is that a school rumor or family gossip, now?"

"Ponchita, it's not your business." Race interjected.

"Yes it is! Mr. Stevens was _fuming_ —what did you _do_ anyway?!"

He forced a smile, "Oh, my usual." He was kicking himself, _nothing_ ever changed. He pulled out a chair and sank into it, dejected. The room was an absolute energy drain. He glanced at Hadji who _also_ wouldn't make eye contact.

On a _plus_ side, at least he was used to being invisible. "And here I was long-shotting it to a month…" he mumbled.

"What was that, Jonny?" Dr. Quest asked in a calm worry.

"Nothing sir," he mumbled again, slightly more articulately. He wasn't sure what was worse, the apathy or the sledgehammer of pity.

"So, how was _your_ day, Jessie?" He offered, clearly a mistake but anger was better than being ignored or pitied.

"It _sucked_." She seethe, " _All_ day everyone was bugging me about where _you_ were and _then_ in last period, Mr. Stevens lectured us about not embracing _challenges_ and how _soft_ our generation is, oh, and assigned us _all_ topics to present on."

Dr. Quest tugged his ear, he had _thoughts_ on the matter, but was not quite up to discuss them civilly.

"What's your topic? Advanced plastics?"

" _No_ … I have to present about how fracking breaks carbon-chains and where different gasoline weights come in."

"Oh, week 7 stuff, when do you present?"

"Week 8. I'm _second_ … _luckily_ there's an Adams in our class."

"What's Todd stuck presenting then?" He asked.

"How plastics are condensed."

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, look, dad—he didn't have to present on _your_ advanced theories."

"What's _with_ you!" She snipped.

Jonny pushed back his chair, this was beyond the pale, "May I be excused?"

"Frequently." Hadji said sharply.

"Not really, Hadji, usually the norm is that I'm _inexcusable_ , oh, and selfish as you kindly pointed out." He nodded to himself.

"Son, please sit down, you've barely eaten all day."

"Can you blame me?" He asked flatly, the obvious response there was _yes, readily_. His heart was at a gallop.

"I'd appreciate for us to _not_ have an antagonistic family dinner." His dad said in a patient tone.

"Oh, so I _am_ excused?" Jonny rebutted.

"No, you are not. You're _also_ part of our family." Dr. Quest reminded him laying the patience heavily.

"Am I? I'd forgotten." He said, still hovering, ready to make a hasty retreat.

"So the diplomat's skipping this one?" Race asked casually, trying to end the stalemate.

Jonny glowered, "Yeah, _that_ needs more practice…"

Jessie scoffed, "The diplomat? Who's _that_?"

"Oh, one of Jonny's _characters_ ," Hadji shot, "As he has _so_ much personality, he must entertain himself by creating _several_."

"…Kids." Race warned, "Jonny, have a seat." He rubbed his tongue between his teeth, miserably, as he sat back down. "Now that _that's_ settled, let's eat." Race recommended.

"Hadji, can you pass the sweet potatoes?" Jessie asked kindly.

"Certainly," He replied in suite.

Jonny watched in numb antipathy as the other two acted as if his invisibility kicked back in. He reached for a dish only for Jessie to pull it away faster, "Green beans?"

He brought his hand back to his lap, trying to roll it past and over him. He should've expected that blow-back. He _knew_ that much, there was an actual saying about not pissing off redheads. Several in fact.

Race and Benton were eying each other, debating the merits of disciplining the kids for being bratty or to get through dinner without screaming.

Race handed Jonny the dish as it passed around. Instead of taking any, he sat it down. "Pardon me." He stood, placing his napkin on his seat. He clutched his stomach suggestively as he staggered toward the kitchen and restroom nearest.

"Son?"

He bee-lined to the bathroom and fell to his knee, the next ten minutes were spent trying to empty all the bile his small intestines had imported from his liver and gall bladder.

A soft knock carried in a lull of his misery.

"Jonny?"

"S-sorry… couldn't…" he gagged again, more green entered the bowl.

"May I come in?"

The only response was more gagging and liquid hitting liquid. The door opened a crack, Dr. Quest closed the door behind him. He wetted a washcloth in cool water and touched it to the back of Jonny's neck.

Jonny sat back on his heels and leaned his head back to look at his dad.

"I'll be back out… inna…" he leaned back over the bowl, another mouthful came out.

"All day?" He nodded, understanding the question in full, more bile came out. "Is it anxiety or your stomach?"

He held up his pointer finger.

"First one?"

"Yeah…" he managed, he felt exhausted. He leaned into a wall.

"Okay, let's get you up to your room to rest. I'll set up an appointment for tomorrow."

"Appointment…?" He said, his dad helped him upright, the cramps in his stomach made him sway violently.

"Yes, can you stand on your own? You _look_ unsteady."

He slowly shook his head left then right.

His eyes felt heavy, Benton put a guiding hand on his bicep to prevent him from hitting porcelain on his way down if he _did_ faint.

"Can you take some medicine?"

"Benedril?"

"Exactly my thoughts."

"Not yet, but soon…" He offered, leaned back into the wall.

"You kept the oatmeal down?"

"Yeah…" Jonny felt his stomach roil, he squeezed his eyes shut. He slid down the wall to sit again and kicked his legs out and he kept his eyes shut. The room felt _too_ small, he could practically _hear_ them mock him in blatant disdain. "I… I'm fine here." He offered, his dad's hand released only for him to feel a hand pushing something into his hand. He blinked his eyes open.

"Tums and Benedril." He was holding a cup of water.

"Don't need water…" Jonny replied, he gnawed the chalky Tums then dry swallowed the Benedril. "Don't miss dinner, I'm gonna wait it out a few more…"

He saw his dad kneel down into a crouch. "How many of these attacks have you had, Jonny?"

"I don't quantify these… a handful over the past few months, but not this bad, especially when I take bike rides." He looked at his dad's mouth instead of his eyes then cast his eyes lower. "Doesn't matter anyway… usually don't need to take anything for 'm…"

Benton didn't actively argue, but was of a vastly different opinion. He was busying himself counting the thrum of Jonny's pulse in his neck, he was clocking 100bpm easily. "Do calming breaths help?"

Jonny scoffed darkly, "No, but 20 plus miles on a bike does." He shook his head, "Not being _swarmed_ does, not feeling like I'm the world's biggest… well, fill in the blank, I'm going to head to my room." He gripped the wall to slide up it. He felt a hand on his bicep again. "I can manage by _myself_ , thanks." He said, it probably came out short, but he didn't particularly mean it that way.

"You look faint. I'd rather you make it up the stairs intact."

"Oh where's your adventurous spirit." He deadpanned, " _Will_ he make it up the stairs, will he fall down them as well as a slinky, then still trek back up—? Stay tuned to find out…"

His dad was much less entertained by the imagery than he was.

Jonny laughed darkly to himself, "You'll really be mad about earlier…" he said more to himself, "I was able to get on the roof _just fine_."

"Oh? What did you do up there?" He said without adding kerosene.

"Think… sleep… the usual." He looked at the hand, "Really, let go."

Benton acknowledged the withering look. "Would you rather Race help you upstairs?"

"I'd _rather_ no one touch me right now. I can make the stairs."

Benton let out a breath to keep his keel, released the teen's arm and stepped aside.

"I don't need a doctor's appointment. It's fine." He said with more strength.

"It's not up for debate."

He shook his head with a scoff, "Of course it isn't," he mumbled, he walked past his dad. Gripping the rail, he made it up the stairs in one shot, entered his room and closed the door, he laid over his covers and fell quickly to sleep, he really overshot that over-under.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Vaguely, in the dark room, Jonny was aware someone had entered, put something down, and was turning to leave.

He mumbled, "What time is it?"

Forcing himself up, he stretched. In all things fair, he'd had _way_ too much sleep today to truly need it, even if his emotional exhaustion was ever present.

"Easy there, kiddo," Race said in a quiet voice, "About 9. Are you waking up?"

He nodded, he gave the voice command to IRIS to turn on the lights, sure that clobbering himself in the shin would _only_ improve his day further.

The fast transition of 1.5 seconds of the light increasing was also far better than instant light. He gave the older man a look. "Jess and Hadji still pissed?"

The no-comment shrug as much as confirmed it as he continued on.

He shook his head, "How is it that gossip's never to my benefit? No, _I_ just have the pleasure of having to recount to the believing audience…"

"Ponchita doesn't know _what_ happened between you and Mr. Stevens, and I mean it, it's _not_ her business. You _don't_ have to tell her."

"Oh right, because _two_ pissed off redheads is what _I_ need in _my_ life…"

"Is your dad _pissed off_?" Race countered.

Jonny froze, for a person so _tired_ of all these conversations, he sure seemed eager to engage.

"Never mind, forget I said anything." He said in a quiet voice. All of this would funnel, there was no such thing as confidentiality for _him_ , unless it was vastly inconvenient of course. _Then_ , apparently, he got privacy.

"Alright." Race agreed, it surprised him that he just rolled without pushing for more. "Some oatmeal there, it should settle your stomach."

Jonny nodded, hopeful that the calories would do him some good. Maybe he'd have the energy for an easy ride, then he'd _really_ just feel better.

"Race?"

"Yeah Jonny?"

"…Dad said I'm _not_ grounded…"

"You aren't. Why? Did you want to watch TV or something?"

Jonny looked down. The white-haired man gave him a look, "Jonny, what are you thinking? You've been under the weather all day—don't tell me you're itching to go for another _ride_?"

He looked at the oatmeal and pulled off the lid, "Never mind, I was just asking."

Race gave him an expectant side-long look, "Kiddo, don't go sneaking out. It's bad enough that you climb up the walls… at _least_ I know where you're _at_."

The blond wouldn't meet his gaze.

"I won't push you, I was just dropping off some dinner for you, but if you decide to take a walk or leave the grounds, let me know—okay?"

He nodded to himself.

"Besides, it's after curfew." Race reminded him gently, certain that would make no difference. The kid still wouldn't look at him.

"Well, alright… I'll leave you to your dinner. Good night, Jonny."

"Good night." He mumbled back, he waited for Race to leave before digging in.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

To kill time, Jonny began writing his English paper on Galinda the Good as he digested the calories. He reminded himself that he was _not_ grounded, that while curfew _had_ passed, that it also reset by 5AM and he _could_ work in a run and still maintain that good standing.

Or at least that intent of law standing… he was never considered good.

Hadji thought he was selfish… how did he even come up with something so off base?! Sure, he got how Jess was mad—it was utter garbage, but she _was_ on a vastly subdued front of a storm he was in part of making… _that_ he could deal with. But _Hadji_ , Mister Maturity… that irked him to no end.

He laughed to himself, "Maybe I should've taken on the West." He read over the paper again, in his own insomnia, by 4AM he put out a well-rounded thesis paper. He saved and printed it then headed to the bathroom to grab a shower.

Enjoying every bit of the pulsing showerhead, he felt the tension slip away from his body, the hot steam loosening up his lungs and muscles. After twenty minutes he killed the water, toweled dry, and in said towel returned to his room to get dressed for a jog.

As he did several warm-up stretched, he began to categorize chief complaints. No one worked on _their_ faults with him, yet somehow he was compelled to do that for _them_ … it was so frustrating. But he knew he owed it to Hadji to listen through, if only because he usually was the only one who consistently tried.

Sighing, he drafted a note apologizing for calling him a gossip and a meddler and asked him to explain how he was being selfish and promising to be more willing to _actually_ talk about it instead of pass notes after school. He folder it into a paper fortune cookie and slipped it under his brother's door as well as a note to Race that the time was 5:15 and he was going for a 2-mile run and would be back in reasonably soon.

With his t's crossed and i's dotted, he went to the kitchen for a piece of toast and to get Bandit to join him on his run.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

On a short trail, Jonny and Bandit jogged past the spot he'd rescued a lady's pack from almost two weeks ago.

He was surprised to see her still around, if anything he thought that was very strange. Backpackers usually went way deeper into the trails.

"Here boy." He commanded, they needed to double back, suddenly that earlier thought of the threat being lifted seemed significantly less accurate than he'd banked on.

"Well, you were going to leave without saying hi? I'm _wounded_." She said, her eyes traveled up to his.

"Bandit, go!" He commanded, he turned 180 degrees and sprinted, he knew Bandit could keep up for a short burst, but then he'd need to grab him. He was hopeful he'd make the range of a 200M dash.

"Hey! No _fair—_!" the woman called out, annoyed she'd have to chase him.

He felt his chest constrict more tautly than he'd expected from the dart, his own hands shaking.

'Not now, not _now_!' He begged his panic attack to hold off. It was costing him time and she was keeping up rather well—he hadn't opened up nearly the gap he'd hoped to achieve, and adding a 30 pound weight was hardly going to improve his distance! Bandit's pace was also starting to peter out.

"Bandit, _to me_!" He called, clapped his chest and turned to catch the Frenchie projectile as his dog obeyed with a leap. He teetered but pulled off the pivot and dug deep.

On a natural bridge, the gap was closed. He still had _some_ maneuverability, but he also knew once they got to solid land _this_ was going to get physical.

Or so he'd thought, she kicked out his knee and sent him face first into the creek.

He yelped as his leg snagged on the way into the drink, he dropped Bandit unwillingly, the old boy climbed back onto the felled tree.

His eyes widened as the woman began to fish for something in her pocket. Jonny began paddling with the current, he was sure she'd pull a gun. "Bandit! _GO_!"

Not obeying the command, Bandit instead opted to sick, he clenched down hard on the woman's arm.

His chest barely let him draw any air as tightly as it clenched when the woman flung his dog to the embankment ten feet away.

"…No… boy, _run_ …" he pleaded, too far away to stop it if she decided to shoot his dog.

The dog ran at her again, this time launching into her back, toppling her and growling.

Jonny pulled himself onto the creek bank, a good 30M away, "B-Bandit— _come_!" he choked out.

He took a step back toward the danger, desperate to get to his dog before harm could befall the loveable pooch.

Bandit seemed to sense Jonny's intent, he rushed toward him in a fast skedaddle.

He muttered a, "Thank god…" as he hobbled a run back for the exit of the trail.

He glanced back, the woman wasn't following him, he didn't see where she'd went to either. With a crash, he sunk to the ground, wheezing.

Shakily, he drew the cellphone he had on him and hit speed dial # 1.

Race was on it by the middle of ring 1.

"Jonny! Where are you, what's wrong—?"

"Tr-trail…" he gasped a pant, "c-can't breathe… chased… someone—marker 1…"

"Are you somewhere secure until I get there?" He ordered as he pulled his keys and gun.

"D-dunno… can't see her…"

He was hyperventilating.

"Stay on the line with me. I'll be five minutes."

Jonny nodded vigorously, not that Race could see it. He winced sharply when Bandit licked the gash in his leg. "Hh…"

"Kid, are you _hurt_?"

"N-not major…" He tried to force in more air, it was a losing battle, "I don't hear anyone…"

His head was spinning, even still he scanned the trail. He heard a car door slam. "Can you hear _me_? I'm coming up to you—I see you at the tree." Race informed.

Jonny nodded, tried to force himself upright but failed to get the momentum to lift.

"Easy kiddo, I gotcha." Race was on him, hoisting him up while he scanned the area. Jonny closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "Okay, up and at 'em." Race kept a firm hand on the back of Jonny's shirt, another on his arm, he eyed the gash and Bandit at the kid's foot.

There was a welt just above his knee at the side, and he was drenched, teeth chattering.

"I know you're gung-ho about that swimming piece, but c'mon kiddo, that water's _cold_ now."

Jonny didn't offer a retort, instead he leaned into Race's heat and steadiness.

"Deep breaths," Race coached. The blond nodded as he tried to oblige. Race helped him limp up to the car, Bandit hopped into the back as he spun Jonny into the seat and began a triage.

He pulled out a gauze pad from the first aid kit under the seat and pressed it onto the wound.

"Kid, can you hold this on while I drive?"

He nodded mutely, doubled over which made it a little easier to breathe.

As a much slower clip than he'd driven to get _there_ , he drove them back to the compound dialing Benton to update him.

Back home, he helped Jonny into the house and ushered him back toward the showers. He peeled back the gauze to reveal a shallow gash. Jonny was sat into the tub, still clothed when the water hit him in a hot spray.

He peeled off his top and dropped it out of the shower, much happier to embrace _hot_ water than _cold_ water. Race saw the second welt at Jonny's hip, same side.

"Kiddo, did you land bad?"

He nodded mutely, color starting to return to him.

"Sh-she kicked out my knee, sprawled me into the creek, I snagged my leg on the fall. It's not deep is it?"

"No, it's not, but we'll still need to clean it up good."

Jonny nodded and took a long, shaky breath.

"It was the same lady from before…"

"What lady?" Race asked.

"When I came home drenched? It was _her_ pack I dove in for, but I had my bike then…"

Race wasn't following.

"I went on a ride, we had that three-day weekend for the school trip except I wasn't _allowed_ to go, so I took a ride… and a backpacker lost her gear… except that was two weeks ago and she's still at that same part of the trail… I got suspicious of that so I decided to double back and she chased me—knocked me into the water… I think she was going for a weapon when Bandit bit her."

"Did you see a weapon, or anyone else?"

He shook his head.

"No, I swum downstream to get away if it _was_ a gun…"

"Okay, what did she look like?"

"…Dark brown, wavy shoulder-length hair, dark grey eyes, athletic slim build, bangs, light complexion… 5'6" at tallest… kicked like a _mule_ though…"

He gingerly rubbed his knee.

"Okay, I'll grab you some shorts and a sweater, you change out and meet me in the kitchen to patch that up."

"Yes sir."

"Home much did she weigh, round-about?"

"…I dunno, she was lighter than me, maybe a buck twenty? Maybe a little less."

Race nodded grimly. That was _not_ a kidnap attempt, not if she was alone at least. He wasn't sure if Jonny picked up on that, but from what it sounded like… no, he wasn't sure _what_ that sounded like besides not enough information!

As promised, he dropped off a warm sweater and sweat shorts so they could patch his leg.

He was tempted to keep all the kids home today. Dr. Quest eyed Race as they awaited Jonny in the kitchen.

"He was attacked?"

Race nodded, "I don't think abduction was the intent, not unless she had friend Jonny didn't see."

"And you didn't spot her?"

"No." Race glanced toward where Jonny's enter, "…He got pretty far away from where he said it happened, and Bandit dug in."

"Thank _goodness_ he had him with him…"

Jonny limped gracelessly into the kitchen. Both adults took note, that limp was _not_ a good sign.

"Let's ice that knee and elevate it, shall we?" Dr. Quest suggested.

"…I had a panic attack when I ran. I've _never_ had one when it's _important_ …" he frowned.

Benton cradled his face, "We'll get through it."

"…" He looked down.

"Alright, peroxide going on," Race warned, the blond winced but didn't jerk his leg, some light dressings went around it, tape keeping it closed then a layer of gauze covered it. Jonny leaned into his dad's shoulder.

Race prodded his knee joint, his leg did jerk at that, the outside of his knee very tender below the bruising. He wrapped it then several icepacks over top it, strategically.

"You're parked for an hour at least."

Jonny nodded, "Can I _park_ in the den at least?"

"Yeah, I'll carry you over." Race conceded, a couch would be far more comfortable than a chair.

He winced at having his leg jostled even slightly but was just glad to be lying down instead of extending his leg while seated. Just as Jonny began to doze off, he heard Jessie rushing around which brought him straight back to the room.

"Dad! My alarm didn't go off! I'm going to be late—"

"You're fine, I'm keeping you home today."

"What? Why?!"

He gestured toward the den.

"What did he do _now_?" She fumed, instantly regretting it when her dad gave her the stink eye.

"He was attacked this morning, I haven't been able to figure out by whom or why so _you're_ staying home because we have an active threat."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I didn't hear IRIS…"

"It happened when he was off-site going for a morning run." Race explained, _not_ happy with her attitude one bit.

"Are you okay?" She called over.

"Ponchita, let him sleep it off. He tweaked his leg." In a hushed tone Race conspired.

She whispered back, "How bad?"

Equally quiet, he added, "We don't know yet, might've sprained his knee."

"Wouldn't that cost him the triathlon?" Her eyes shone with concern.

"God, I hope not… that'd be a damn shame."

Seeming to concur, Jessie walked toward the dining room and away from where Jonny was resting.

Jonny tried to settle back in, but the ghost of sleep had moved on.

He watched his leg, the events sinking in rapidly, the gash wasn't that big of a deal, maybe he'd miss swimming for two weeks, but his _knee_ … if that wasn't just a painful bruise it could be a _major_ setback. His chest felt tight again.

He rolled his face into the back of the couch. At 8AM he felt a hand tap his shoulder. Groggily, he shifted toward it.

"Careful, I just took the ice off. Want some breakfast?" his dad asked hopeful.

"…I fell asleep."

"That's alright, are you hungry?"

He shrugged, "A little."

"Okay, do you think you can make it to the dining room?"

He gave another shirk, "I can try…"

Legs pulled over, he put weight on his uninjured right leg and less on his left. He bit back the expletive as his knee shot angry signals up through his hip with his left hand using the couch as a crutch.

"Let me help…?" Dr. Quest offered himself as a more mobile one. The teen frowned.

"I can do it myself, it's _fine_ …" he protested.

"Son," he was about to expound on how much of a _small_ thing it was but stopped short. He'd _made_ it a big deal when he'd _struck_ him. _He'd_ made him feel small, unimportant, and incapable, and now _his_ career had yet again dwarfed his son's own ambitions by making him a target to his latest attacker.

"I can manage." He said in a hard voice, he limped stoically to the other room and snagged the closest chair to the exit.

He saw Jessie and Hadji were waiting at the table, shit. Had he fallen into another trap?

"How's your leg?" Jessie asked softly.

His pupils constricted, he looked around the room. "It's stiff. It's not anything…" he mumbled dismissively, really lacking the energy to dig into another round.

She nodded back, apparently on better behavior that he'd expected.

"I saw your note, Jonny." Hadji offered peaceably.

His body language read defensively, he was trying to keep the target _small_ , he looked at his leg, his knee looked awful, mottled reds and pinks from the strike and fall. "…" He tried to get his voice to cooperate, "…I _do_ want to talk about that… just… well, really not as a group…"

Hadji nodded, "Neither of us woke to this day going as foreseen."

"Yeah, that's accurate." Jonny laughed, "Though, I _probably_ should've with my luck."

"…Last night—"

"Please, _really_ , I _can't_ get into it now. My nerves are _shot_."

"But of course." Hadji paused. Jonny's shoulders were shaking, the tension he'd been holding was too tall of an order.

The smell of rich breakfast foods made his stomach somersault. He lowered his head, pinched the brim of his nose and closed his eyes. An uncomfortable watering in his mouth told him how nauseated he was feeling.

When oatmeal was put in front of him, he was unsure of how that good tiding passed, he forced four bites rapidly to give his stomach something else to assault and then waited for the others to get their servings.

His eyes caught hold of the Tums and Benedril.

"Kids, we're going to implement heightened security measures, that includes staying on the grounds and using the buddy system." Race reminded.

"And we have an appointment in town at 9." Dr. Quest pointed at both he and Jonny, "We'll be in around lunch."

Frowning, Jonny tried to sit more upright.

"Race will accompany us, Jessie, Hadji, can you stay in the main building until we're back?"

"Yes sir."

"Yes Dr. Quest."

They spoke in unison.

"Good, _no_ visitors are expected."

"…I…" Jonny tried, his voice felt stuck in his throat, "—I can't get upstairs right now…" He acknowledged there were challenges and then there were _stupid_ challenges, or something like that. "…I'd feel better with a phone on me… I know you're both coming with, but… in case _you_ know…"

He sunk into the warm hand that found its way to the back of his neck, and closed his eyes. In case they got diverted, in case he had to call cops, in case he fell down a _well_ … seriously, he wasn't discounting anything else with his luck.

Race put it in front of him, "I also brought over something warmer, it's 50 degrees and dropping like a stone with that cold-front."

Jonny nodded gratefully. He finished half a bowl of oatmeal, his stomach telling him not to push his shitty luck.

"I called Bennett, we're trying to get a handle on it."

"Is there multiple people, Race?" He asked a bit unnerved, not sure if he should say the next part.

"So far, no."

"So it isn't Gaia? …She was young, maybe 20 at oldest…" he swallowed, "If… if she was _alone_ , Race was she going to try to kill me?"

Race let out a long breath. "We don't have enough info yet."

"…But if she _was_ alone, then—" He stopped himself. "She was _really_ strong, and fast. I mean I'm _not_ out of shape and she caught _up_ to me."

"I don't have enough intel to give you a brief, Jonny. It is possible, but then why attack one day but not the other?"

"…Okay." Jonny downed the medicine, he wanted to ask someone who _wouldn't_ sugarcoat it. "May I be excused? I'd like to rest for a bit."

"Of course, son." Dr. Quest chimed a measured response, he looked at Race in worry.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Leg elevated, Jonny reclined into the couch exhausted. He texted Venus.

"Just wrecked my leg." He sent an immediate follow-up, "Someone tried to kill me."

The phone rang.

"—Hey." He said quietly.

"Are you—"

"My knee's bruised up but I'm okay." He interjected.

"—Seriously telling me someone _ATTACKED_ you?! _WHERE_?!"

He blinked, that was not the expected question at all. "On the trail, a woman jumped me…"

"Like a mugger?"

"No, like I saw her two weeks ago the same day you got grabbed, when I was on my bike, but I saw her today and got a real bad feeling—just not fast enough."

"…" He could _hear_ her internal gears going. "Any ideas of who she is?"

"No, but _minions_ aren't usually the ones we know by name… I'd think she was with Gaia except she was _alone_ , I think she wanted to kill me."

"…Okay, what's she look like, I'll have dad run it… Jonny—what the hell is Gaia to _you_?"

"…I dunno, some eco-terrorists who want dad to work for them, in Paris this summer they tried to kill me, too, so maybe it _is_ Gaia."

"Wait, they tried to kill you in Paris?" Venus blinked.

"Yeah, Dr. Arquette sent a threat to my dad and Race, then poisoned me and killed their liaison with InterPol Dr. Rin Li Yuan…"

"And your attacker, what's _she_ look like?" Venus asked in a veiled anger.

"Race is already—"

"— _Humor_ me." She said sharply, "We have different resources."

" _Okay_ …" he cleared his throat, "Five-six, athletic, trim, light—like 120 at heaviest, fair skin, _young_ —like a college coed at 20 at _oldest_ , grey eyes, wavy dark brown shoulder-length hair…"

" _DAD!_ "

"Ow! Warn a guy…" He winced at the scream through the phone.

"You'd _recognize_ her again?!"

"Y-yeah…"

Darren rushed over, "Woah, what's wrong—" Jonny could hear commotion, "Sit your ass _down_ , what's—"

"Darren?"

"Jonny? Can I have her call you—"

"Have him _tell_ you!" She yelled from the background.

" _You_ need to sit your too-skinny ass down, you'll pop a _stitch_ …"

"ASK him." She demanded.

"Alright, but sit _DOWN_. Jonny, why's she flying off the rails?"

"I think someone tried to kill me this morning, a 5'6" woman 20 at oldest, probably younger, grey eyes, dark brown wavy shoulder-length hair, bangs, about 120, trim-athletic _really_ fast and strong…"

"…"

"…Darren?"

"Where?"

"The trail by my house."

"Would you recognize her?"

"Yes." Jonny reiterated.

"And you're near a computer?"

"…Yes?" His voice lilted.

"Open your email, what's the address?"

"1 Quest Dr—"

"No, your _email_ address, no, never mind, Venus has it. Okay, sent it."

They waited a few moments for it to load, Jonny gaped.

"…That's _her_. Who is she?"

"…"

"Darren, are you still there?" Jonny asked.

"When did you see her?"

"Thursday two weeks ago, that morning we received that threat from Gaia, and then today."

"…That… that makes no fucking _sense_ , I have to make some calls… is Race with you?"

"Yeah…"

"Do _not_ have him leave your sight line, you hear me?"

"Who is she, Darren?"

"I don't know _how_ —but I'm going to find that out, but _that's_ Jenna."

"…Your niece?" Jonny blinked, "…Who tried to kill Venus on _Wednesday_ two weeks ago?"

"I repeat, do _not_ let Race leave your sight line. I _have_ to make these calls."

Jonny swallowed thickly as the line disconnected. "Race?"

As Jonny turned, the white-haired man saw the image on display. "—That's who attacked me… Darren said it's Jenna, Phil's daughter….?"

Race locked eyes with the boy. "Fur on a catfish…" he muttered.

"I… I don't understand, she attacked Venus on a Wednesday and then not even a day later she's _here_ , we didn't even _know_ about each other—" his mouth opened, "…unless Gaia already knew about us both? But why would she want to _kill_ me…?"

"Very good questions that I'm frankly going to ask some people," Race drawled, "but you still have that appointment and you _need_ to go to it."

Jonny nodded, he felt frayed.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Darren was on the horn with Phil as soon as he disconnected from Jonny.

"—Darren, how's Venus doing?"

" _Where_ are they?" He cut in a pithy.

"Who?" Phil asked unnerved.

"That bitch ex-wife of yours and Jenna." Darren hissed, "Because _I_ have a confirmed sighting of Jenna in a little town in _Maine_ you might've heard of—from _Thursday_."

"From last week?" Phil blinked.

"No. Two weeks ago."

"Darren, that's _not_ possible. Claire drove them back to Illinois Wednesday night after we found her."

"Did you get _confirmation_?!"

"Easy there, what the hell crawled up your shorts and died?"

" _Phil listen with your ears_ , Jonny Quest _just_ confirmed by a description and then by image that she was there the day Venus got abducted in NYC and again there _today_ when she tried to _kill_ him."

"Do you even hear yourself? You sound insane. Why _ever_ would she do that, let alone be in Maine or _know_ who he even _is_? Let alone before _we_ did…"

"That's _exactly_ what I want to ask that cunt Claire, too. I'm supposing Claire has those insights, that manipulative little—"

" _Darren_!" Phil chided.

"Don't _you lecture me_ on tone- my daughter almost burst stitched hearing this shit! _How_ would Jenna get to Maine?! It _has_ to be Claire, because even _she_ can't lose her kid. So how does _Claire_ know about Jonny and why would she care? Here's _my thoughts_ on that—your bitch ex-wife at some fucking holiday party played happy hostess and met Dr. Quest, schmoozes and they compared kid pictures, and she realized my daughter and his son look near identical, her niece she fucking loathes for interfering in her own gold-digging, all of a sudden those talks with Jenna about how _awful_ my usurping twerp is becomes one of _body snatchers_ —and that's all fine and well if Jenna _kills her_ so when we're gone she keeps all that pie for herself, _until_ the threat is made about the Quests in a public enough of a sphere that she has a two-for-one special—kill Venus with terrorists and show Jenna how she'd been _right_ all along about her being a body-snatcher… except Venus _didn't_ die and now there's another _body snatcher_ , and Jenna feels obliged to get rid of _that threat_ too? Check my time-tables, did Benton go to any holiday parties before Venus hit 8? Was that bitch _there_?"

"…Oh my god, Darren, what the _actual hell_ are you insinuating about Jenna! She's mentally _ill_ , she can't control that she's schizoidal!"

"But _Claire_ _can_ manipulate and use her—and she _is_ doing it! She has any number of reasons to do it down to spite and greed. Or is it even worse—has she _flipped_? Is she a goddamn turn-coat in that Gaia debacle?!"

Phil's voice flared as he glared through the line, "I'll call her and ask where they are."

"Don't be a fucking idiot, you damn boy-scout. _Call_ the hospital she's _supposed_ to be at and then have your people find _where_ they're staying in _Maine_." He hung up, furious. Panting, he eyed Venus as she sobbed silently.

" _SHIT!_ –Sweetie, don't cry…" he approached, his edge worn away.

"It's my fault…?"

"No! No, _absolutely_ not—Jesus, baby you're too quiet sometimes… I didn't mean to say _any_ of that in front of you—"

Her shoulders shook as her voice squeaked in a fit.

"Hey, hey, _none_ of this is on you—sweetie, look at me—" He pulled her gently into a hug, rocking her. "It's _all_ going to be okay…"

She pressed her face into his shoulder, the bridge of her nose over his clavicle as she sobbed, "Is _that_ why she _hates_ me?!"

"…" Darren was kicking himself, _how_ they hell could he have said that full disclosure in _front of her_. "Jenna's mentally ill, and Claire… well, you _know_ she's a money-hungry bitch."

"But why hurt _him_?! There's _no_ gain in it for her…"

He rubbed her back, still rocking her.

" _Jenna's_ delusions can be started and reinforced, but they _can't_ be stopped. Claire _proving_ you were a body-snatcher was probably just to control Jenna, but then… when you lived… well maybe she thought _both_ of you are, I _don't_ know, it's a _delusion_ , those don't have to make sense to sane people."

He pulled the quilt from the bed and wrapped her in it while she shivered into him.

"Come on, you have to calm down, this is no good…"

" _HOW'M'I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT?!"_ She hiccupped, body wracked with shakes. "And _what's_ this got to do with _Gaia_?! The people who tried to kill me— _why_?"

He lowered his head, the timing of that was _too_ good. She was right, this was coordinated, but he had to get her calmed down. "This is _not_ your fault, and Jonny's _safe_ , and we can _deal_ with Claire, Jenna, Gaia… _all of it._ All of the things." He said, immensely frustrated.

"They'll _blame me_ and now Jonny'll _never_ want to see me…" She hiccupped again, "…they'll leave me all alone too…"

"No way! That's _not_ true at all, if you make me, I _will_ burst into song to make you calm down."

He studied her trembling shoulders and the feel of her sobbing into his chest as it refused to wane. With a warming hum, he cleared his throat and opened with the operatic rendition of Funiculi Funicula.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Jonny sat on an exam table trying desperately to not collapse, his adrenalin was through the roof.

The sports medicine physician palpated his knee, his dad had omitted that there were actually _two_ appointments.

The hand at his side had shocked him, he'd found an injury Jonny had yet to notice.

"Extend your leg and tell me if it feels better or the same when I hold here."

He held at the mid-quad.

"Better, a _lot_ better." Jonny said, not liking the implications.

"Hmm, I'm going to abduct your leg carefully, tell me if that does or does not hurt."

Gently, but firmly, he pressed Jonny's leg away from his midline. He let out a short yelp, "OW! Ow that's awful!" He panted a breath, he felt his eyes prick wet at the corners.

"Did you hit your hip when you fell?"

"I _think_ so… my knee hit the top part of the down tree, and I hit the water face-first, but I was twisted up so it could've hit the underside…"

"And that gash was from the top of the log?"

"…Yeah."

"It's your ITB, without a scan, I can't say sprain or strain, then swelling needs to be under control. I'm going to give you an injection locally for it. I'll also give you some kinetic tape to minimize the stretch on it, but you'll need to take it easy for a few weeks and _then_ we'll see on follow-up how it's looking. Alternate ice and heat for relief and try to keep off your leg for the next few days at a minimum, and _then_ use the tape."

"…Yes sir." He said nervously, "No crutches though?"

" _Rest_ is more preferred it'll heal faster with you off it entirely."

"…Okay." Jonny wasn't sure how to really do _that_.

"If you need to get around, we do rent out wheelchairs, you shouldn't need _that_ for more than a week, ask Ella at the front."

The blond eyed his dad, he was oddly quiet. He broke the spell with a controlled, "What grade are you expecting if it is a sprain?"

"It won't require surgery by the looks of it, so if it _is_ a tear, it's minor. The _swelling_ ; however, is causing a majority of his discomfort."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

The next appointment was no less stressful, now in a wheelchair and acclimating to _that_ menagerie of maneuverability, he used his upper body strength to keep an iota of dignity instead of letting Race or his dad cart him around like a complete invalid. Words from earlier in the morning hit him with sledgehammer-power. " _Hey! No fair—"_

The naivety, the _childishness_ of it only made him feel even more unnerved, the juxtaposition of the seriousness of it and she acted like it was a goddamned _game of tag_ to her… he felt cold sweat coat his skin in slime.

"Jonny?" Dr. Quest asked as his son shook his head to return to the room.

"I… I've been having panic attacks of late." Jonny said while not looking at the psychiatrist. "Exercise was _helping_ me with keeping them at bay, or minimizing them, but I've been having a rough couple of weeks, I hurt my leg this morning when someone jumped out at me… which isn't uncommon for me per se, but my reaction _was_. I've _never_ had a panic attack when I've felt threatened before—it comes _later_ , but _this one_ felt like an asthma attack right away. And all week I've been on _high alarm_ , I haven't been able to sleep, or eat, only exercise and now _that's_ shot while I recover…"

"Besides the attack, which I _do_ wish to discuss more about, what has been feeding your anxiety?"

As diplomatically as he could muster, he said in a neutral affect, "Stress. School, family…" he looked at his dad, certain some things stayed _in_ the family, "…family _dynamics_ , lots of changes lately… and I mean, being threatened—there was a kidnapping threat made, it impacted travel itineraries, schedules, affected school, and made the _family_ get stressed on top of it all…" he kept eying his dad.

"…I'll step outside so you can be more candid, son." He recommended.

"I don't want to be in here alone, no offense, doctor, dad can Race come in and maybe _not_ narc?"

His dad gave him a tempered look but conceded, "I'll tell him it's Top Secret and outside of my clearance."

"Thanks." Jonny said meaning it.

Race replaced Benton in a smooth hand-off, stayed to the corner where Jonny could see him and doing his best to not listen in.

"…I've been really self-conscious lately." He looked at Race and spoke in a very hushed tone to the doctor, "My adopted brother found his birth mother, _his_ daughter moved in with us," he nodded toward Race, "and well… both of them get along great with dad and I'm the fuck-up, perpetually so. We've been butting heads a lot because I'm just so different and between feeling left out and blatantly atypical, every time we get into it I've been feeling more and more anxious. I don't have someone who takes _my_ side, no default neutral party or escape route… so it's suffocating, and then, well- it's _literally_ like that. My chest gets tight and I can't breathe."

"What about your friends outside of home?"

"…I can't talk to them about everything, even my closest friends don't get most things—I mean, I'm gonna sound like such a stuck-up rich kid here, but—but things like _always_ going on vacations to _dad's_ picks for work, and it's _always_ his interests we explore—whether they're shared or not, but any of my unshared interests? Those never get added to the docket, even on _family trips_ not just work trips… then they skip out on _my few_ events because _schedule conflicts_ and it's for work and it's more important… but _all of them_ go to the work thing versus my _dumb_ interest… But dad _picks and chooses_ his projects, when and what he works on… I'm _not_ some spoiled brat but it _sounds_ like it if you say it… and so, I don't."

"You feel undervalued?"

"No, as an object I have quite a sizeable worth, significant even, but that's _property value_ , arguably intellectual property at that… they don't care who I really am as long as my identity's so tethered to who my dad is." He swallowed thickly and hoped to hell Race would actually keep confidence here. He'd never be able to live with himself if his dad heard any of this. "…My mom died when I was really young, and dad's protective, but… sometimes I watch how warm he is with everyone else and how _distant_ toward me he is… it's _cold_. It makes me feel like a voyeur, like I don't _belong_ here—it was an absolute mistake on mom's behalf to die for my sake." His hand clapped over his mouth. "If I didn't _look_ like her I'd swear I really _was_ switched at birth…"

He felt his chest tightening.

"You are a very open and honest young man." He smiled peacefully at the boy and handed him a box of tissues.

He grabbed two and swiped violently at his face.

"—I just found out I have been part-right, though… I wasn't, but I have a _sister_ …" he shivered, "and well, no one ever told me I had a twin, but here it is, that there _was_ this other part and I just met her… and we clicked instantly… but she and dad haven't at all… and it's just another glaring difference that makes me feel alienated and alien…. I… I dunno… I feel so foreign versus even just a few years ago… and I don't know how I got so lost from where I'd always _been_."

"These are not fast fixes, Jonny. Truth be told, it's _very_ typical for kids facing _so_ many changes to have difficulty coping, and so anxiety becomes that coping mechanism of why you feel one way. I'd like to have you try an exercise—a _mental one_. Much like muscles, our minds can strengthen with the use of exercises, so I'd like you to close your eyes."

Jonny did so.

"Imagine you are in a room- one you feel safe in… but in this room, your cluttered feelings, your negative feelings, how you feel unimportant as a person, I want you to put those feels into objects inside this room, and clean up this cluttered room. If you feel knowledge in subjects that disinterest you are negative, close these textbooks and put them away on the shelf, or in a back pack, or a desk drawer—clean the room. We will not throw these things away, but instead of looking at a big mess, I want you to focus on the positives, so put those negative objects away and in a while we will examine these pieces one at a time instead of all at once."

Jonny's shoulders relaxed as he did so.

"Tell me what you see in this room—the messy parts and the cherished objects."

"…I have family photos, some look happy… some not so much… I… I think I should close the album for now."

"Good, and the happy pictures?"

"…On display on the wall."

"Very good."

"…There's lots of junk on the floor, gadgets, computer parts, games—there's a box and space in the closet for them with some clothes.

"What clothes?"

The blond's face fouled, "…A lab coat." His scowl only seemed to intensify, "…I'll leave that in the closet too." He relaxed as the room became less harried. "I made the bed and put the hoverboard underneath it…"

"What else do you see?"

"The rug—I straightened that so it wouldn't make me trip…"

"And what else?"

"I put the maps up, and straightened up my letters and history books, they're on my desk so I can see them."

"How does the room look now?"

"M…manageable…" he let go of the tension completely in his upper body.

"Okay, open your eyes?"

He did so, blinking back tears.

"How do you feel right now?"

"…Relaxed." Jonny smiled, he really, really did.

"Then we will call it a day, I want you to clean your room next time you feel overwhelmed or stressed. And then, we will talk about some of the messes, but only one at a time. Okay?"

"Yes sir."

"I'd like to see you twice a week, do you feel comfortable with that?"

"If dad's okay with it, he's pretty busy…"

"I am sure he can facilitate it, yes. Can you schedule an appointment for this Friday?"

Race headed over, "We'll do that on the way out, for two hours or shorter?"

He smiled, "There is no need to make him feel rushed, if it ends early, that is fine. Jonny, does that work for you?"

He nodded with a neutral expression on his lips.

Not feeling subdued or energetic, the blond looked up at the ceiling, surprised that the thought exercise had such a centering effect. He felt more focused then he had lately, he locked eyes with Race and began to maneuver toward the door, he even felt playful, turning the wheelchair in an S while the adults conversed in the lobby.

Benton observed that calm demeanor, the confidence that had been a stranger of late. Even the plucky cheerful optimism had been on hiatus, not that it was fully restored, but he didn't seem sulky, irritable, or withdrawn.

"How did it go?" Dr. Quest asked pleasantly.

Jonny shrugged, "It felt good to just get a lot off my chest, cathartic maybe? And then that thought exercise really calmed me down."

"Oh?"

Jonny smiled, "I don't think I can _talk_ about it with you right now, but right now I feel a bit more at ease, even with some murderous psycho thinking I want to play _tag_ being around…"

Benton eyed him sharply, " _What_?"

"From earlier… something she said." He shrugged, "It felt like it was a _game_ to her, or like she felt teased when I ran from her… I don't know why I thought she seemed so old, she seems _young_ to me now."

He kept turning the chair in an S, he stopped to go back to his _room_ to put a stuffed snake away, shoving it into a trunk. He shook his head, imagining a stuffed snake and stuffed rabbit in the same chest. With a disarming smile he added, "Yeah, I'm not up to talking about _that_ just yet either. Is it okay if I just coast on feeling relaxed right now, pop?"

He eyed Race who gave him a _mums the word_ shrug, "…Sure, for now. Shall we head back, then?"

He shrugged, "Probably a good idea," he rolled his neck, this felt vaguely familiar. "Huh." Jonny mumbled.

"Son, what is it?"

"…I've used that technique before…" Jonny thought perplexed, he blinked, "Did I ever go to that doctor before, dad? I don't _remember_ doing so, but… I remember I've made a mental room before, a few times…"

"…He _is_ with I-1, but it was a long time ago." He glossed over, not sure if was wise to remind him of his visits to slews of therapists trying to find _any_ way to get through the night terrors, his mother's death, and a handful of violent kidnappings. He'd simply been incredibly lucky that the I-1 doctor had, on Race's preemptive tactical suggestion, opted to set a practice area in Maine. Though, mostly retired, he did handle PTSD cases for the company as needed, and usually only focused on a few clients at any given time since their demand was typically quite high at onset of trauma.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

With the grounding exercise in place, the return home had been smoother than either Quest had anticipated at the start of the day.

Race, not quite as believing in the calm—thinking it duly preceded the storm, was proven correct in his haunches twice for the day. Phil Korvin was in the living room, he looked about as cheery as a man covered in broken glass and vinegar.

As he saw Jonny wheel in, that contrition only got worse.

"Kiddo, the doctor wanted you resting, want me to set you up upstairs?"

He frowned, thinking that'd probably hurt any which way that happened. "…Can I rest downstairs?"

Race eyed the proximity of the den taking the point. "Were you up to talking to Hadji? The den might be a quiet place for that."

"Sure." Jonny said evenly, not pleased or displeased. Race thought to himself how, ironically, _this_ was the famed neutrality of diplomats that peaceably pleasant blasé.

"Okay, head on over then."

Jonny nodded and made his way to the den, it was a home-theater come movie nights but generally was less in demand than the living room, and closer to the dining room. Once he was certain Jonny was out of earshot, he approached Phil Korvin in the living room.

Hadji and Jessie had been _keeping him company_ in a stoic, cornered manner, both eager to bail with the energy he was putting off. He couldn't blame them.

"Oh, well dad's here now, and I have school work—" Jessie begged off, Hadji looked wounded to _not_ have such an easy out to employ.

"Hadji, Jonny's waiting for you in the den. Why don't you boys finish up that conversation?" Race guided, he knew Benton, Phil, and he were about to have a lovely discussion themselves. Frankly, he was certain Benton would be the actual bear in this, not like Korvin wouldn't be another level of prickly.

"Ah, yes, we most certainly _do_ need to finish that discussion…"

"Just go easy on him, he's okay right now but don't _push him_ too hard." Race reminded firmly.

Ah, back were the days of using that applied psych degree and all of those certifications. He _really_ hadn't missed them.

Dr. Quest eyed Phil, entirely unclear of his personal, unexpected, visit; particularly after that disastrous last meet in Millbrook.

"Mr. Korvin, fancy seeing you here… to what do I owe the pleasure?" Benton crossed his arms.

And the opening shots sounded.

Phil let out an incredibly shaky breath. This was _not_ his preferred way to spend a day. "I flew in from Illinois, my brother had called to say your boy was attacked—how is he?"

The genuine concern there had always been why Benton both liked _and_ trusted the man, he softened. "He's injured his leg, inopportune given his athletic vision of managing a half ironman in a year's time…"

"—He didn't break it, did he?" He looked aghast.

"No, he strained his ileotibial band on his left leg."

Phil nodded, "I see, may I be candid?"

Benton offered a go-ahead wave of his hand as a missive.

"Have you heard the current theory?" Phil was certain he hadn't, lest his legendary temperament would be more prominently displayed.

"There's already a working theory? Even by your standards, that's quite—"

"Jonny made the ID before we left, Benton. He was talking with Venus and described the suspect—" he eyed Phil, that was not the best way to word it, but cat out of bag, continued, "—and photo ID was confirmed."

"Then why didn't you tell me in the car?"

"With Jonny there, in shell-shock? No, that wouldn't do."

"He seemed quite aware, situationally, whomever that is tried to _kill_ him… How would his sister have any insight as to who it was?"

Phil cut in, "Actually, I have on good authority, she hadn't tried to kill him… Namely because he'd be in _much_ worse shape if she had."

Benton looked at him darkly, "You know my son is a survivor, Phil."

He rubbed his forehead, "Of that, I have _no_ doubt, but trust me—I have seen her aftermath. She didn't try to kill him…" he swallowed thickly, "—He positively IDed my daughter, Benton. Jenna is _not_ where Claire said she was, and I have _no_ idea what motivation she has for this but I swear I will find out and stop her."

"— _What?!_ " He groused.

Phil sighed, "We currently are tracking down both Claire, and Jenna. You've seen the _cleaned up_ handiwork," he paused.

"You mean the screwdriver scar?" His tone was clipped.

"Yes, believe me, my niece could tell you exactly what it means when Jenna truly frenzies…"

"No offense, Phil, but Jonny has a lot of good instinct and training…" Race inserted.

"Not comparably, he started Judo at 6. Venus started Krav Maga at 5—and that was her sixth martial art with varying belts by _then_ , and she was trained with small arms, knives, she has more tactical experience at 15 than some of _my finest_ agents at _their_ 9-year badge."

Race's eyes narrowed. "…Phil," he looked over at Benton, he didn't _get_ it yet, the lingo not his own. "Phil, are you saying—?"

Phil looked past Race to bore into Benton's eyes, "Yes, Dr. Quest, your daughter, she sure as _hell_ isn't under _protective custody_ anymore. Yes, my brother is an _absolute dote,_ but she hasn't needed much of any true protection details since _she_ was 6. Alpha-One is _not_ for orphaned kids who need protection, they're talented kids that will make damn good agents for _any_ organization they choose but a majority do stay in house with Alpha, some swing by into Intel-1, it depends on personal ethos… subtle differences between agents and spies and all. So, yes, when I say Jenna did not _try_ to kill your son it's on the credible basis that my perfectionist niece has fared far worse on _actual_ attempts."

The information seemed to short-circuit Benton, his anger desperate to reboot from flabbergasted.

"That screwdriver scar, for one, was _after_ it went through an inch thick hardcover textbook before getting to her neck."

Race wiped a hand down his face, that was _three_ hand grenades now, and he never knew Phil to juggle. What the hell was he doing?!

"Claire is after something, I do not know what, but I do know she's using my daughter as a means to it. Once I find them, they will be immediately removed from the area."

"Your _brother_ is using _my child_ as a _SPY?!_ " He bellowed, " _AND_ your daughter didn't just try to _murder my SON_?! Because you know her varying degrees of _psychosis_ … _that's_ your working theory?!"

"Oh, the psychosis is _not_ the measuring stick. It's that your boy is relatively unscathed."

Race put himself between both men on that bit of cheer.

"And I am _truly_ sorry he was injured at all, you must believe that—but Jenna is _far_ stronger than she looks and has _no concept_ of it."

"Yes, that was _noted_ in how she injured his leg severely with a singular _kick_."

"I do _not_ know he reasons for assaulting him, but I _do_ know she escalated, it gets worse as she builds up a delusion and apparently she isn't taking her medication."

"Well, isn't it _convenient_ he'll be _home_ for several days!" He fumed, his son for the first time in _months_ had been showing signs of recovery, was forming a positive relationship with his sister—and _now_ , after he just started to revert to his normal, happy-go-lucky self— _that_ shit-show would now have to be heavily scrutinized. A _spy?!_ And what kind of man would raise a _child_ into that! His son would never forgive him for what he'd have to do.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

At the couch, Jonny propped his leg under several cushions as he spotted his brother ducking into the room.

"Hey Hadji," he smiled toward the older teen.

"Hello Jonny—" he locked sight on the wheelchair.

"—It isn't really _that_ bad, it's just for a few days. I pulled something in my hip on the landing."

"Oh, then at least it is only for a short while. Did you still wish to discuss this?"

Jonny nodded, "I do, I was rotten to you and I'm sorry about that."

"We were both being quite rude to the other. You are no more at fault than I." Hadji countered.

"I appreciate that sentiment, but I took out my frustration on _everyone_ instead of _dad_ when it felt ramped up… and _you_ were trying to do was watch my back. I was being a brat."

Hadji shook his head, "No, you were simply trying to deal with it on your own and I did not give you personal space to do so."

Both at an impasse, they shrugged.

"…Can you tell me why you thought I was being selfish? I want to see your perspective."

Hadji nodded, "It was _not_ about your request for personal space, I do believe you took my meaning as an _in the moment_ comment, I did not understand why _you_ had been the only one to stay behind with Venus and prior to knowing about the fight with father, I had thought it to be more of a selfish intent—and then when you ignored _us_ … your _family_ …"

Jonny frowned, "I really didn't mean it to come off like that, Hadji, you're the best big brother a guy could ask for!"

"…I know this was not your intent, _now_ , but your _act_ … it was as if _we_ were not good enough for you."

He shook his head, "That has _never_ been how I've felt, if anything, I'm the all-American reject, you and Jess are so much closer to dad than I am…"

"I simply do not see that, Jonny."

Jonny's eyebrows shirked, "Well, I do. Both of you _get_ him, you're always helping him and he always boasts about how _mature_ or clever or great you are, how impressive a study Jessie is—how you both help him out so much on projects, how much more he can get done because of how much you put in… I've always been the short-end of that stick—even with that Space Camp years ago—dad _bragged_ about how you handled _it_ and robotics camp, but me? I'd just been whining since I couldn't pull off _both_."

Hadji looked at his brother with warm, injured eyes. "Because you did not ask for my help to run the test scripts?"

Jonny sighed, his chest was feeling tight again, the energy in this house was a vice.

"—You and Jess have outside people, Hadj. Your moms who can give you true objectivity… but me? I split dad and Race three ways, but Venus and Darren don't _want_ the Quest brand, and it's like I have a person who's _truly_ neutral and has my back, so yeah, I've been talking with her a _lot_ lately, but it's not because I'm turning on you and Jess, you're still my best friends… I dunno, it's hard to say, but she's like leveling the grounds."

Hadji nodded, "Have you realized why Jessie dislikes her?"

He looked down, "…I think so, she probably feels the same way about Venus as I did about _her_ when she came to live here—if she was _just visiting_ , fine, but suddenly I'd been replaced but to be fair, _she_ never lost _my dad_ so I'm only giving her half-credit on it."

"Do you not also think she, as _Race's_ daughter, thinks her suspicious? That she has an ulterior motive?"

"I mean, because of timing? But Korvin _and_ Race vouched for her, and _we_ found _her_ , not the other way around… or I dunno, maybe her jealousy is making her jump to bad conclusions?" He closed his eyes, "Who's _here_ anyway? It feels suffocating."

"Phil Korvin stopped in."

Jonny's eyes shot wide, "What?!" He was reaching for his wheelchair, almost toppling from the couch to get it.

"Is that unexpected given the attempt on your life?"

"Hadj, he doesn't make house-calls… he's the Director of Intelligence 1—besides, dad didn't hear, I don't think—so maybe you guys didn't either… _his daughter_ is the one who attacked me. If _he's_ here, oh gosh… dad's going to wig out!" He managed to finally fumble into his wheelchair, Hadji stabilizing it if _only_ to ensure he didn't actually fall. In second that dragged for hours, he got to the living room entry only to hear Phil blab what he'd already heard—and sure as _heck_ hadn't divulged. That Venus was an agent—or at least a _junior_ one, though _he_ was making it sound worse, implying they were _spies_ …

As Phil alluded to Jonny's subpar skills, he felt gutted. He probably _was_ right in his assessment, Jenna was too _crazy_ to recognize chasing down a person and kicking them into cold running water was paramount to severe harm, but then—what had she been drawing if _not_ a gun?

It hit like a hammer to an anvil, his dad was in a fury—just as he'd been on Friday in the hallway.

The calm façade chipped as his anxiety mounted within his mental room—a storm blowing through, toppling shelves, trashing the tidied-up space.

Race locked onto the shadow in the doorway and cursed the kid's timing.

"…Jonny, are you alright?" Hadji asked in a quiet voice.

The blond shook his head, feeling sick and overwhelmed by the energy of clashing egos in the living room.

He wheeled _in_ anyways, "—D…dad?"

His father spun, shocked by his unexpected presence, he hadn't masked his blind anger which _only_ startled the boy more. Quickly, he adjusted and reached toward him.

"Son—I thought you were _resting_ in the den…" he tried.

"She _isn't_ like that…" Jonny insisted, more to _Phil_ than to his dad, "She _isn't_ a spy…"

Phil wouldn't comment, wouldn't _clarify_.

"Why are you saying it like that, Mr. Korvin?! You _know_ she's not… she's just an _agent_ , she _isn't_ dishonest—" He felt ice as his father glared at him, it was like a hand was squeezing his heart.

"How do you know she's _only_ an agent, Jonny?" His words were practically blows themselves.

He refused to look away from Phil, though. He _had_ to say it!

"Because she told me about herself. She _isn't_ a spy, _neither_ is her dad…" He saw Phil's eyes soften at that.

"Of course my brother _isn't_ , I didn't _say_ she was, either…"

Jonny looked at his dad, a bubbling fear sprang in his chest, his dad's vitriol was rising, "…Dad, I _couldn't_ say…" his voice recoiled, "…you wouldn't've _listened_ to me…" He swallowed thickly, his room—he had to tend to his room… it was a better place to be in.

"—Jonny?"

It took him several minutes to realize he was being spoken to, his dad mere inches from his face, calling him.

"—Son, can you hear me?"

His eyes opened and closed, focus returning. He felt an uneasy calm in the room—which had changed _back_ to the den somehow. He felt _heavy_.

"…Huh?"

Benton tried desperately to keep the excess emotion from his voice, the fear, the anger, the frustration, all of it, "Son, are you alright?"

"…Weren't we in the…?"

"That was half an hour ago, you… _went far away_."

He gently pet Jonny's cheek, the blond turned to look at the hand. "…Is Phil still here?"

"No. He spoke _his_ piece." Benton tried to minimize his own disdain but only half-succeeded, he watched in worry as Jonny's face redrew anxious lines. "…Talk to me, please?"

Tongue darted over dry lips, Jonny tried to coax his memory and voice to function properly. "Dad, they _aren't_ bad people—"

"You think I don't know that?" He offered gently in rebuke.

"…I _know_ you're mad." He said with the confidence of first-hand knowledge. "But how can you be? You know what we did just to survive. How is it so different for _them_?"

He watched his father's features soften, _cave_ , truthfully.

"I was wrong to _ever_ say you aren't truly diplomatic, son…" He blinked at that odd compliment.

"But let's just _talk_ … why didn't you _say_ who it was who attacked you? Why didn't you tell me?"

"…I thought you and Race both heard, by time my focus was back, though, it was doctor appointments and then back here, it wasn't an intentional omission…"

Benton sighed, uncertain to the truth of that, though he _had_ hardly given his son the confidence to say so. This whole damnable time he'd given him so _little_ a change, hell he never even asked him why he was _soaked_ when he'd come home the other day.

"…Dad?"

He eyed the blond, still making contact with his cheek, "Yes, Jonny?" his tone far gentler now.

With a thick swallow, Jonny started, "Phil's right—about Jenna I mean…" the tension in his body went from spring-loaded coils to jellyfish, and not because he'd relaxed, "I was having a panic attack, so at the time I read her actions all wrong, her mannerisms were _playful_ , hyper and childlike— _naively_ so, like she didn't _understand_ how her actions would be perceived. It was… it was like a _game_ to her." He shuddered.

Benton put his other hand on Jonny's arm to coax him onward.

"…She _wasn't_ reaching for a gun, her pocket was flat, I just assumed that _had_ to be it… I didn't know who she was and I read it like a normal threat…"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jonny."

The blond looked miserable. "…When I called Venus, both she and her dad were so alike in their response, it was verbatim—and he hadn't been _in_ the room for her response…"

The redhead watched, waited for Jonny to come to his point.

"…When did _we_ get so far apart?" The wetted blue orbs looked into him, making eye contact for the first time in two weeks, or at least it seemed that way. "Didn't we _used_ to be close? You said I'm a _stranger_ to you…"

Benton let out a slow breath. "You've always been more of an enigma to _me_ , son. Rachel, your _mom_ , she always knew just what to say or how to approach an issue, but then she was gone and I hadn't _learned_ nearly enough from her… and somewhere along the way, I stopped listening to answers I didn't want to hear, so you stopped providing them, you started saying what I expected or nothing at all, and by time I tried to listen, _that_ was your conditioned answer. And you're right, it _has_ been cyclical… I know it's not a convincing argument that _this_ time it'll be different, not until I _prove_ it, but if it makes you feel more confident in my resolve, I'm more than happy to make a project of it."

"…Please, _please_ don't—I don't think I could take you on a seven-night binder right now."

Benton laughed, "I've divided it up on _some_ projects, I'll have you know."

Jonny frowned, "Dad… are… are you unhappy?"

"…" The older of the pair faltered, his hand withdrew from Jonny's face as he searched for a turn of phrase. "I'm… not an optimist in nature, but generally I am _content_ , in the current state _we_ \- and I mean you and I and the whole family find ourselves in, it needs to be improved, and as such I'm _not_ content in what muck I've made of things of late. That you've been left feeling so vulnerable, I'm appalled at myself. You've gone through _so much_ , far more than what's fair for an adult, yet to have endured it all as a _child_ is infinitely worse."

Blue orbs dropped from his held stare, and lo, the skies were overcast again.

"What would make _you_ happy, son? Have you thought about that?"

Realistically, that answer could be 'no,' Benton surmised—the boy really had always been of a happy disposition despite the vileness in the world.

"…You'd think it's stupid." His voice was strained.

"I promise you _that_ I _would not_." He said fiercely. Jonny frowned, he didn't fully believe it nor did he feel particularly better to risk it, he hugged his own waist anxiously. Benton sighed, he had _some_ answer.

"…I don't want to feel like an outsider, not _anymore_ …"

Gutted, his father pulled him into a hug, he whispered, "We can work on _that_."

"And I _want_ to know my sister," his shoulders shook, he felt so wary now. The levy was going to give out.

"What else?"

He let out a shaky sob into his dad's chest, "I don't want you to look down on my _all the time_ …"

That stung, and yet he couldn't say he _hadn't_ lived up to that. He rubbed his son's back as he continued to hold him. "What else?"

"…I want to have input that _means something_ —it's always been about… about…" his voice cut off, too tired, too emotionally drained, "…I want to not be so ashamed of who I have to _be_ versus who _I am_ under this roof that I can't stand bringing my friends over after school—I want people to _listen_ and _value_ what I have to say and not just dismiss it as stupid or impetuous or youthful naivety. I want _my_ interests to mean something, even if I'm the only one who _likes_ it."

"Okay. Is there anything else you can think of right now?" Benton said with a timbre of resolve. His son shook his head, " _If_ more is added to that list, that's okay, too. I want you to be happy, and not as a shield, but to actually feel happy, son."

The boy nodded in agreement. "But to do that, can you let us in more?"

"…?" He looked up perplexed.

"Of course when you _need_ privacy, I don't mean _then_ , but you've _been_ defaulting to shutting us out. Locking yourself away, we'll work on not always locking ourselves away too—not in things you feel unwelcomed to or conflicted or coerced to be welcomed to—"

He nodded in understanding, still wrapped in his dad's embrace. "…I'm exhausted." Jonny mumbled faintly.

"Did you want to sleep in here?"

The teen nodded slightly.

"Alright, I'll make sure you're left in peace, do you think you can join us for a late lunch first?"

He shrugged slightly, he truly was spent at both ends, "…I'm too tired, and anyway, I wouldn't keep it down if I ate right now…"

"Alright, then we'll see you at dinner. Do you want help to move over to the couch?"

"…Could… you grab the quilt off my bed?"

"Certainly, and a pillow?"

He nodded, "Thanks…"

Benton pet the boy's cheek and kissed his forehead in an act that had been few and far between as of late. "I'll be right back. Sleep well."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Over the course of two weeks from the second attack, Jonny reflected on the slow changes, even with Jenna in the reeds, his home life was night and day from the start of the school year.

In one week he'd worked his benched ass off to catch up in Art History, and had a solid A-plus in the class. His English Lit High Honors paper was submitted to a thematic publication –oh, _and_ also an A-plus, as were TK's, Matt's, and Bobby's, and their group presentation!

Hell, TK even came to visit—and was vastly disappointed that he was not shown Jonny's dad's _secret_ lab, only his front lab, more than certain the hover-jetskis were in the other room. He expressed his understanding that Jonny's injury was keeping him from being able to use it though despite Jonny's insistence that they simply didn't have those.

"Sure, Bond-Girl, suuuure." TK had said with an incorrigible wink.

Even the semi-weekly therapy sessions with Dr. von Liecht were going well. He felt able to _breathe_. He hadn't even realized how much he'd been struggling with.

Back to taping his leg, training was still postponed, but he and his dad had checked out some local galleries lately, and a theater troop, he _didn't_ mention that he'd helped out said troop with some set and prop designs or how he'd taken some special FX and makeup tutorials from them, but he thought his dad might've figured something was up when the thespians high-fived him after the small show.

He was waiting for his dad to pick him up after school today to go into town for another session—the routine was leave school, go to therapy, and then just decompress for a while together. So far that had been at a couple galleries or a local show, but today he was hopeful they could lock down the plan for Halloween, and hear if there was news about Jenna's whereabouts. He also wanted to talk more to his dad about Venus and Darren, though he wasn't sure his dad would be thrilled about that.

Deciding against poking the bear, he'd tackle Halloween first, and _then_ ask about Jenna's whereabouts.

With his leg getting stronger, he wanted to just walk around the downtown area for a little, and maybe, just maybe, grab dinner.

That might get vetoed, he still hadn't asked to do that, he was still figuring out what the boundaries of this family time was, was it allowed to interfere with the _rest_ of the family's together time like that? He couldn't say, and was still leery of figuring it out.

He saw the familiar Land Rover pull up to the curb, with a wave he approached, hopped into the front seat to put down his back pack. With a warm smile he gave the customary salutations, "Hey, pop."

His smile sank, his dad looked distracted.

"…Dad? Is everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. It's fine." He said absently.

Jonny's face went neutral. Maybe today _wasn't_ the day to push topics after all. He buckled in, his dad pulled back onto the road. Silently he watched his dad, his own anxiety increasing at the veer from the established.

'Over-Under?' He thought to himself, still trying to maintain what his dad had agreed to… suddenly he wasn't even sure he _had_ agreed to anything at all. "What are you thinking about?" He finally dare, he felt so unsure even as he said it, he steeled himself for the dismissal, instead a warm hand touched his shoulder, thumb contacting exposed skin.

"I'm sorry, it's bad news about your attacker. They tracked down where they'd _been_ staying—"

"—They?"

Benton eyed him, "Yes, _they_ , Jenna Korvin and her mother Claire Westcott, her maiden name, suffice to say, they were hiding in plain sight. They used a ruse, that they were hiding from an abusive family member to keep people from divulging of their whereabouts, _but_ I have on good authority they left _that_ location a few days ago. I just don't know where they are now—no one does."

Jonny shivered, he turned on the seat warmer but the chill was already in him. Were they collected up by Gaia operators? Was there going to be another attack?

"She _hasn't_ attempted further contact, per Phil that _is_ a good sign."

"…Yeah?" Jonny asked, now just as far away as his dad had been at the pickup zone.

"I should have waited until we were at the doctor's office to say anything, son…"

He shook his head, "No, I wanted to ask, anyway."

"—Not to change subjects too much, but was there anything specific you wanted to do afterwards?"

He shivered again, now too distracted by thoughts of ambushes to entertain his earlier plan of walking around in the open. With a mumbled he said, "—make arrangements for Halloween, I guess…"

"We can do that, absolutely. Over dinner?" Benton consciously tried to draw Jonny back out, he really _should_ have waited. He probably just shot any real progress or bonding by bringing it up prematurely.

"Can I turn the heat up? Do you mind?" He evaded.

He obliged, aimed the vents toward his son as he put the default setting to 78°F.

By time he seemed to thaw, they were at the office. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go for dinner, just the two of us?"

"…We could get sushi?"

"We could, is that what you'd like to do?"

He nodded, "There's the one place by the wharf, I think they have bimbimbop too…"

A polite smile passed from father to son, "Now, if they have age-tofu that's a good sign."

"Not as good of a sign as having grilled smelt or squid." His dad ruffled his hair. "What are the others doing for dinner, anyway?"

"Jessie and Hadji were going to head to Rockport with friends, and Race has a briefing with Bennett that's supposed to go long, so I gave Mrs. Evans the night off. Luckily, you wanted food out, you know I'm an abhorrent home-cook."

Jonny laughed, oh, he _was_. "You don't _mind_ that I want to visit her for Halloween, right?"

"It's okay, son. There's ground rules, and I _may_ just ask Race to stay quasi-local, but it's okay." He smiled a bit more genuinely. "How was school today?"

"Pretty good, Ms. Labinski submitted my theme paper and group presentation for a publication."

"Really? That's impressive- what _kind_ of publication?"

"Thematic essays of popular theater." He blushed, he was pretty proud of that one.

"When would you hear if it's accepted?"

"…Earlier this afternoon." He smiled unabashed, "She told us ours were picked up, all of them for Wicked and Wizard of Oz, it _may_ even go into a cliff-notes update," he paused, "Not the whole paper, just the themes we discussed."

"Still, congratulations."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, "Thanks."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

In a slouch-back chair, Jonny went through the self-hypnosis recording as his father spoke with Dr. von Liecht outside.

"He is very agitated today." The psychiatrist noted.

"Yes, I updated him about his attacker, and it upset him."

The older man nodded, "And that update was?"

"Her mother was using the cover that they were lying low from an abuser—in law enforcement, the owner of the hotel had a similar experience so she was _quite_ accommodating."

"Were they located?"

"No, they had left days ago. We haven't been able to track her movements, she has significant capital at hand and who knows if she has outside help…"

"The ex-wife of a spook picks up some tricks of the tradecraft, hm? I see." He glanced into the room, "I need to step in, excuse me."

Benton nodded, eyed his son in a semi-conscious state.

As the teen's psychiatrist walked him through the messes in his mental room, he picked up on the young man's apprehension.

"Jonny, what are you looking at?"

His breathing hitched, "The snake—it's _moving_ … and it's dragging some _cable_ …"

"Remember, nothing in _your_ room can hurt you. You can pick it up and put it away, it is at _your_ control."

"No! I can't—it's… it's too…" he gasped.

"Do you see any gloves or a blanket? You can use these to corral this, yes?"

Jonny nodded, lips trembled as he focused at the task at hand and mentally constructed a way to wrangle the snake into a tank, his body relaxed ever-so-slightly.

"Did you put it away, Jonny?"

"I put it in a tank, I can _see_ it… that cable was _edge wire_."

"Hm, interesting. I'd like for you to take some calming breaths, is anything else out of place in your room?"

As Jonny described the room, his focus kept returning to the tank, a clear stressor.

"Alright, I think we should leave your room and talk about this, you are waking up now, on the count of 10 you will be back with me in my office—1, the lights are dimming in your room, 2, they are off, 3, the sounds are quieting, 4, they are still, 5, you are walking out of the room, 6, you are locking the door, 7, you have your key in your pocket and are walking through the corridor, 8, you are at the door to my office, 9 you are in your seat, and 10—open your eyes and here we are."

The blond blinked his eyes tightly shut then open, there was a glass of hot chamomile tea before him.

He eyed the room. "Your dad is outside, is that who you are looking for?"

He nodded mutely.

"Do you want him to sit in on this part?"

Another wordless nod answered him as the boy sipped the hot tea.

"Alright, I will return momentarily, is the tea to your liking? It has one sugar and a splash of milk."

"Th-thanks, it's just right." He said then took another sip.

A moment later, his dad stood behind his chair, two firm hands on his shoulders kneading at the tension there.

Jonny looked up at his dad then back at Dr. von Liecht.

"We've spoken about the attack before, but Jonny, today I would like to focus on how you _felt_ during the attack, to describe the _object_ in your room."

He gave a shaky nod, he felt a chill, sipped more tea to chase it back.

"I felt scared—mad, _frustrated_ , but… but also _now_ , sad… like not that _I_ had to deal with it, but _pity_ …" he laid out.

"What do you feel about your attacker?"

"—There's two." He said flatly, "The girl who was manipulated into it, and then the puppeteer behind it."

Benton's eyes bored into the back of his son's head.

"—Darren told me about Claire… she's so _awful_ …"

"What did Darren say?" The doctor looked to the boy and then to his father to reminded him _not_ to interrupt.

"Did you know Claire's motives? It's _all_ about _money_ and _power_ —her kid's this perfect pawn for her! If she wants all that money, she has obstacles though…"

"Is that what Darren said?"

"No, he said Claire's a…" he glanced at his dad, "well, direct quote, a 'money grubbing cunt.'"

"And how did you come to _your_ conclusion?"

Jonny swallowed thickly, "He told me that Claire's _money_ happens to be in a trust—the Korvin family trust, but she's not a direct beneficiary. Only Phil, Darren, Jenna, and Venus are… she was written out of it when she ran her mouth about _blood_ relations and how Venus was some… well, let's just say she doesn't think adopted kids count. She has access to the money through Jenna, though. I dunno if you know this, but apparently Darren was suicidal before he'd adopted my sister… when his fiancée and son died… and _Claire_ was trying to help him along, he didn't _say_ it in so many words, but how he talked about it painted a pretty clear picture. But _then_ he turned the corner, my sister being why."

Benton watched in amazed silence.

"—But if _Darren_ were to go first, the way he set up the trust, it wouldn't go back to the Korvin family at all. It'd be _her_ assets, so if anything happened to her, then it'd go to her next of kin… and well," he pointed to himself, "she has that now, doesn't she? But if she goes first, it's back in Darren's shares, two birds with one stone, he was suicidal before, he'd be it again… he'd have nothing to live for, or at least that's what Claire thinks, and then she'd have access to all that money through her daughter, uninterrupted."

His chest constricted.

"So her kid can't _think_ for herself and is just a _pawn_ , a violent piece on the board she can lock away _whenever_."

The doctor licked his lips, he had to push the gambit, "Do you sympathize with her?"

Jonny laughed darkly, "I'd say she has it way worse… but… a little I guess." He glanced back at his dad, frowning. "It's getting _much_ better now, but it's still hard to be fully open."

"It's alright, son." Benton whispered, still kneading his taut shoulders.

"Why do people use people like that? It's rotten!" He said back to his dad, not understanding the injustice.

"—Probably because they don't think of it like _that_. She sounds like an opportunist, and who's to say what else is at play."

Jonny's frown deepened, "Why is it so _cold_ today?"

"Would you like a throw blanket? More tea?"

He shook his head, "No thanks, doctor."

Hands shifted to the sides of his arms to rub in some warmth, his own arms curled across his waist.

"What else do you feel about the attack?" The doctor coaxed.

"…It'll happen again. Until she meets her goal, Jenna—not Claire, and that's what scares me most. I don't _know_ Jenna's goal, but what if she really, _really_ hurts me or worse? And I don't think she'd even _realize_ it…"

"She _won't_ get that chance." Benton said in fierce conviction.

-Chapter 2 JQ-

Over dinner, the Quest men enjoyed a hotpot of stewed eggplant, sweet potatoes, shiitake mushrooms, and wagyu beef cubes, a split of sushi and sencha green tea.

Jonny used the chopsticks with precision to snag pieces of sweet potato and fish cake from the broth.

"Were you up to talking about the travel itinerary?" Dr. Quest asked in a smooth measure. "There's very real safety concerns to address."

"Yes sir." Jonny said eagerly, he smiled thinking how Darren'd said to _never_ call him that, but he knew this one _didn't_ sound pissy at all.

"For starters, about curfew—"

"On Halloween?!" Jonny blinked.

"If you check in regularly, it can be stretched as _late_ as 2AM, but you've only just recently re-acclimated your sleep-cycle to a normal tilt, so nothing extreme."

"Okay, easy."

"Trackers and cell-phones—I want to be able to reach you at _any_ moment, and vice-verse."

"So if I keep my watch on me and my phone on me, it's okay?"

"Exactly, granted, it's Halloween so I _won't_ try to bother you, but I do plan on keeping tabs. _No_ delinquency, young man. You're to be on top behavior, no binging on all the junk food I wouldn't let you have, this isn't a _pass_ weekend."

Jonny nodded, "Of course, that's a given…"

"And you're to check in _regularly_ with Darren, he's your adult supervision, so keep him in the loop even if you kids head out alone… and _no_ parties, _no_ underage drinking, I _mean_ it, I expect you to be on your _best_ behavior. I'm trusting you to be an ambassador of sorts for our family and our values. And on that subject, I'm also trusting you to make up your school work."

"Make up my school work?"

"Bookend the weekend, Darren can show you those online programs."

" _REALLY?!_ " Jonny stood up, winced at his leg then beamed in a perpetual smile.

"Yes, really. Sit down."

Jonny nodded, sitting back down.

" _In_ return, I expect you to be the best representation of our family, polite language, conscientious guest, be a proper up-standing young man, and take some photos."

"Deal!"

"You'll be flying commercially, Race will accompany you to JFK, and then you'll transfer to Stewart airport where Darren will pick you up and drop you off."

"Did you already arrange the flights?"

"Yes. I had to synchronize the schedules, you'll want to pack light."

"—Can I bring an album?"

"Be careful with it, and bring it _back_."

Jonny nodded, "Okay," he paused still positively glowing, "thank you, dad—thank you so, so much…"

"It's time you took your own vacation, son. You're welcome."

-Chapter 2 JQ-

"Hey sweetie, waking up now?" Darren asked, hovered over the young girl sprawled in her bed. She'd knocked out some pillows, twisted her sheets and kicked free her quilts, even spilling two laptops to the ground in her battle along with several sheets of paper- schoolwork he assumed, and DVDs.

Groggily, she eyed him, he looked far more energetic than she felt.

As he took in the carnage he snagged Mr. Cottontail off the shelf and handed it to her, "I'm not supposing you'd tell me what _that's_ about?"

She gently curled around the threadbare keepsake, sniffled. "I don't remember… do I _have_ to take these pills still?"

"…Let me check your stitches?"

She nodded as she leaned back and rolled up her pajama top to just below her bust.

Darren peeled off the crisp white gauze pad and smiled at the work. "Well congrats, you're _now_ off the shower restriction."

" _Finally_!" She smiled excitedly.

"You _still_ aren't cleared for your morning routine. But I was wondering if you'd kindly accept my karaoke challenge."

"And what's that? To crush you in public domain?" She smiled viciously.

"Aw, sweetie, we'll get your ears checked." He pet her cheek, "But no, _not_ publically, you're still too rocky for that princess. I think we can half-dose you and if you can _manage_ the stairs without too hard a time, we can duel _here_."

"—But there's no unbiased judges _here_."

He scoffed, "That's no different than in _public_ either, sweetie." He bopped her nose affectionately. "As for the meds, you can't just _not_ take them, so we'll ease you off the painkillers, but you've _gotta_ finish the antibiotics and take it easy until next week—and the _reg_ won't start till mid-November."

He poked her flat stomach carefully, "No rush _there_ , and I'll be sure to help you and your brother with all that Halloween candy."

"Wait— _WHAT_?!" She beamed, sitting up rapidly, "You heard it's a go!" She demanded.

"Easy there! Yep, I have his full itinerary," he laughed softly at her response, "including the joke of 'approved foods list,' damned if he wasn't _kidding_ about how bad he has it—"

"Huh?" Her head tilted in confusion.

He pulled the list and started reading from in, "Approved snacks include fresh fruits, veggies, no high-fructose corn syrup, no chips, no high-fat or excessively processed foods, whole milk in _moderation_ , no chocolate milk or added sugars…" he laughed, "Dear god, he's _that_ skinny because he's eaten like a _rabbit._ " Darren chided.

"—But then, if you look at approved foods on the list—how can he have all _that_ processed crap but _not_ chips and soda?" Venus gawked.

"Out of sight, out of mind, not like I'd bring in any of this crap—but we can have candied apples and pork-roast, then some butternut squash soufflés, we can't go _too_ heavy handed though, he'll have to be _willing_ to go back after 4 days."

Venus smirked, "Technically…"

He bopped her nose, "Seriously, take a shower, but when you're really ready to come downstairs let me know. I want to see how you handle the steps."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, fine… what's for breakfast?"

"Oh, I'm putting _you_ to work today…" he ruffled her hair with controlled precision. "You know, after I trounce you in karaoke."

"Since when do _winners_ cook?" She shot back. "You'll just have to make something you are—how about French _toast_."

[TBC in Chapter 3.]

A/N: Thanks everyone who's reading this! It's a _long_ story and there's still a few more parts left. Sorry for any typos/minor errors! Please feel free to hit up the review icon and make a girl's day.


	3. Chapter 3

Frequency Chapter 3 by Vanessa S. Quest

With a hiker's back pack, Jonny waited at the entrance to the gate, JFK was a huge airport, he'd hoofed it after saying his farewells to Race to make his connecting flight and was happy his leg was mostly cooperating, only cramping a little after he'd stopped.

As boarding was called, as an unaccompanied minor he was allowed to board early, a friendly—arguably flirty—flight attendant checked on him as he squared away in the business-class seats which he'd lucked into on the grounds that he'd need the extended leg space if his leg locked up, though that might have just been an excuse his dad gave him, he wasn't sure his dad was even comfortable affiliating his surname to coach tickets lest the credit card's fraud department would be calling.

Even in business class on the small craft, he had to pass his bag to the flight attendant to stow; he kept hold of the album refusing to let _that_ out of his grasp.

By 2PM, he had landed at the base and deplaned. He snagged his bag and locked eyes on Darren from the fence-line as Darren waved to him in an exaggerated motion.

"There ya are!" He ground out his cigarette as Jonny made the 50M walk, his stiff leg more apparent after the hour-long flight.

"Hi Darren—where's Venus?"

"Still at school, I'm headed there next to pick up the kids." His chin jutted toward his Z3, Jonny looked beyond him at the small car sure it would be a tight fit. "Don't worry, as long as Venus gets a window seat, the boys'll be happy to sit in the back. Hell, they'll fight over who _gets_ the middle seat."

Jonny looked him in confusion, "You mean who's stuck there?"

Darren rolled his eyes, "To sit _next_ to your sister… oh god, don't make me spell that out—both the boys have a long-standing crush on her."

"Really? I thought she said they were _friends_?"

"Oh, they _are_ , but friends can have crushes sometimes." Darren eyed the boy, politely ignoring the limp, "You said you were homeschooled?"

Jonny nodded, "Hadji and I were until last school year—Jessie wasn't, but when she came to live with us about 2 years ago, she went to public school straight away."

"So you only were in high school? Do _you_ have a girlfriend?"

"No way! That'd be awful, I mean—not dating, but trying to explain to my dad why he can't ping me every hour…"

"Or with all the travel?"

Jonny nodded glumly, "There was a girl I liked in the Czech Republic, but well, that fizzled since we couldn't visit each other very much at all."

Darren nodded in appreciation, truthfully, he'd thought the kid had a thing for Jessie maybe, for the same reasons—availability. "What about the redhead?"

Jonny gagged at the thought, "Ew, no way, one—she's _crazy_ , two—she's _Race's_ daughter, and three—"

"Up to three? That's a lot of protest—"

"She and Hadji have a thing, it works for them, and four, the most important one—ewww!"

Darren laughed at that, "Okay, gotcha, nah I just had to ask—some guys dig the whole 'my best friend' thing, to me, I'd use razor-wire to off myself before dating my bestie, ugh… I _choose life_." He shivered at the thought, "ugh… De 's… yeah, no, I feel ya."

"De?" He wasn't sure who that was.

"Yeah, I've known her since I was a _kid_ , too. She's not like a _sister_ to me per se, but it's totally platonic and anything else is too horrifying to even think about. I trust her _implicitly_ , mind you, but I know her and _all_ about how evil she can be." He cracked a conveying smirk as Jonny nodded his own agreement.

"Yeah… yeah that's about right." He nodded, creeped out and uncomfortable in the topic, "We kissed once—it was gross, so, so gross, and Hadji wouldn't make eye-contact with me for a week." He laughed, "I figured out he was actually really into her, then. And before you ask, we didn't want to. We were cajoled into it. I even went so far as to stop using peppermint mouthwash after the fact because she was wearing peppermint lip-balm."

Darren shot out a rich laugh, "Did Snow hear about that? In his defense, given his dedication to the job, I don't think he'd have actually killed you…"

Jonny rolled his eyes, "No, but it felt like kissing a cousin and I don't mean a _distant_ cousin."

"That's a pretty spot-on analogy, not quite sibling but close the fuck enough." He pointed out the window, "The school's estate starts just up ahead."

The large, open swathes of greenery and of woods opened to an expansive rugby field, soccer field, and practice fields, then a large stone gatehouse structure that the road curved through.

The school itself had five large buildings and an impressive cast-iron gate Darren stopped at. He used a faculty ID badge and punch code to get the gate to swing open.

"Those two buildings are where classes are, that one—" he pointed to a smaller but still sizeable gatekeeper house, "is the library and health clinic. That one's the dorm, and the other one is the admin building. Some faculty stay on campus 24/7, as do security."

Jonny nodded, it looked like a college campus!

" _Behind_ the school there's the archery and artillery ranges and a small dojo, well, that doubles as the gym too."

He was star-struck by it all; he'd _never_ seen a facility like this, not for a school at least!

"We'll break ground on a co-ed dorm in the coming years, but not just yet. I'm a dean here; it's mostly an honorary title since I do a bulk of the fund-raising for the place."

Jonny looked at him not particularly believing it was all that honorary but didn't say anything to the contrary.

Darren pulled up front to the school and put the car in park. "Want to drop your pack in the trunk? I'll walk you around while we wait for their afterschool activities to finish up."

All smiles, Jonny unbuckled his seatbelt, "Yeah!"

"High-level, the east wing houses STEM classes, to the west is Arts & Letters, southward is History and those economics classes- like home ec, budgeting, life-skill stuff, the north-face has a few more of those like shop class, tech, and an auto-class, etcetera."

"And poli-sci, is that in the west wing or the southern side?"

"Depends on the class, anthropology and sociology are in the STEM wing, soft as they are, they do have labs, but history and theory—well, you can figure that out. Wanna explore?"

"Yeah! Uh, if that's okay…?"

"Sure, most club activities meet in the other building, that's where people take advanced labs, it also has a pool."

"Advanced labs?"

"Yeah, we have some touring exhibits from the Smithsonian, including off the body farm… some expensive chemistry gear too… but most students aren't in the _advanced_ advanced programs. Oh, the auditorium's also on the North face of the main building, too…"

"Advanced-advanced?" Jonny said covertly.

"It's a prep school, Jonny, two buckets there—kids who have a niche, amazing talent to develop, and rich kids who've been kicked out of too many _other_ places. We have a great therapy program but some of 'em just have terminal affluenza."

"Huh…?"

" _My_ kids, and I don't _just_ mean Venus… well, we mostly fill up that _advanced_ one," he hinted.

"Alpha One?" Jonny whispered.

"No and yes. No in that it's _just_ for advanced kids, and _yes_ in that it's a great way to track _our_ kids' progress."

"But you can _be_ advanced and _not_ be Alpha?"

"Exactly, it's layered in. Anyhow, let's walk around—where to first?"

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Inside the dojo, Jonny eyed the fencing and kendo gear being put up from the two groups.

The school had been _amazing_ , but mostly empty where he'd been steered. He saw Venus sketching outside, waiting for the others to finish up their chores.

"There you are, sweetie," Darren offered, "Working on a new sculpting project?" He eyed her sketchpad.

Venus smiled sardonically, "Well, I can't _do_ anything else yet, but I want these clowns to remember I still exist…" She mentioned, gesturing to the slim pickings in the kendo club. "So I figured I'd at least think through some cool art projects while I sit here."

"Aw, sweetie," he offered her a hand up, she took it. "Your brother's walking through the ranges right now."

"Yeah? Does he like it here?" She smiled.

"He's _impressed_ by it, but it's also very big compared to _his_ scope…"

She nodded, "Alex is still finishing up at the computer club, Ian—you done yet?"

Ian poked his head out from the storage closet. "Don't rush me—I have double-duty!"

She rolled her eyes, "Not _my_ problem."

He laughed toward her, "most of the guys figured they could take a pass with you, Toko and Yoshiro being out…" he rolled his eyes, "Yoshi'll beat the shit outta them once he gets back and sees the attendance roster's dips, and Toko'll finish the job when she sees their performances dipped too."

Darren smiled mildly at the two kids, slightly annoyed to witness his kid intentionally sitting through sword fighting after _just barely_ getting medically cleared to come back to school—recovering from being stabbed, _twice_. Forgotten by the club his _ass_ , she was desensitizing herself on purpose and alone, that is unless Ian was giving her some added pointers. The little shit better _not_ be, though. She'd need to work up her core before taking on _that_. "Sweetie, I'll just leave you three here and round up Alex."

"Okay," she waved Jonny over. "Hey, Jonny!"

"Hey!" He held out his arms. She soft-launched into him in the form of an emotive hug while he carefully wrapped his arms to hug her back, he only squeezed with any real pressure at her shoulders.

"Ian, this is my brother Jonny!" She beamed, pulling free, not _really_ much of a hugger in principle. The older teen was closer to Hadji's age, Jonny thought looking at the medium-built, stringy guy.

Ian looked jealous at the rare contact but offered a smooth toothy smile, his ice-blue eyes glinted gray from beneath his lightly-tinted shades then returned to their full luster. His practice uniform looked like a padded gi that had already wicked dry; his swordsman mask pushed over top a mop of long, jet-black braided hair with streaks of neon punk-blue bangs poking out. "I'm Ian Wong, long-time friend of this one here, but you can call me Jay for Jason Vorheez this Halloween."

Venus rolled her eyes, "Don't be a goober! Just call him Ian or his nicknames will get _perpetually_ worse. Trust me." She glare-pouted at her friend.

"You _wound_ me." Ian feigned as he held his arm at the imagined blow he'd received.

"Keep it up and I might, _Bruce Lee_." She said in obvious annoyance, crossed her arms.

Ian smiled a laugh, _very_ guilty of that one, yet not an ounce of remorse for it. "Technically, I was _just_ Lee. Mark was Bruce, and together…"

She glared harder.

"Oh wow, that's pretty bad." Jonny conceded with a chuckle.

"I know, right!" She nodded with her commiserater.

"Did you need help putting anything else up?" Jonny asked innocently.

"No, he's just booby-trapping it for the other group, it's a long-standing feud between Ian and Yoshi, and Carmelo and Franc. They mess with those two dipshits by posing the targets… _suggestively_."

"Suggestively?"

"…They're homophobic assholes so we gay it up every chance we get to piss those jack-asses off." Ian said in humor, "We _could_ just mop the floor with them, but _making them_ have to un-gay it down as it were, well, it lasts longer."

Venus elbowed him, "Dad's coming, you finished?"

He nodded, "That glitter bomb is going to be _liiiiit_. Okay, let me kill the lights."

The three exited the dojo.

Jonny looked at the mousy brunette with doe-eyes who was closer to his own age than Ian was. He had a healthy summer tan despite it being late autumn that was layered under a long-sleeve burnt orange shirt that was below a button-up collared short-sleeve white-on-black plaid shirt. His cargo-styled khaki pants looked messy; he had an inch on Venus making him Jonny's height, but was three shy on Ian, even with how he spiked his hair like a video-game character.

"So is this Freddy, then?" He asked Ian.

The Chinese teen gave a nod. "Also known as Alexis or Alex for short. Emphasis on you're _short_."

Alex laughed and flipped Ian off, "You must be Jonny not-Clark!" Alex smiled, shooting out an eager hand for the shaking.

Jonny was impressed by how friendly he seemed, his smile swallowed up most of his face.

He looked at his sister and asked with a laugh, "You told them about that?" He shook Alex's hand firmly but not painfully.

" _Oh_ yeah," She smirked, "It was hilarious."

"Did you tell them _your_ real name?" Jonny smiled back, "Jonathon Go-Fuck-Yourself Clark, how it's a _family_ name…?"

She shrugged as Alex shot her an exacerbated look. " _My antics_ aren't news to them."

"Sadly, they aren't. Was that _before_ or _after_ he knifed you…?" Alex said with a now-strained friendly voice.

"Oh, _before_ , but you know how much I love to banter… Gotta be consistent and all…"

"Seriously? _Venus_ …" he sighed, "And then you don't even show us the vid-files so we can recount your glorious sassing." He tsked.

She shrugged, "Meh… I don't need the fan-fare. So, FYI, Jonny gets shotgun today so he can scout the area, and I'll sit behind dad. You two can fight over the leg-space."

"I call bitch." Alex said faster.

Ian glared, "Oh, you _are_ a bitch alright…" he grumbled.

Darren put a hand to his forehead and shook his head in irritation. "Hey, what did I say about earmuffs?" He pointed at the two boys flanking Jonny and Venus.

Ian eyed Jonny, "…Oh right, he's _sheltered_."

As they headed to the car they loaded in.

"I'm making dinner tonight, pork roast and squash, you two coming over or do you house-invaders want to head back to _your_ guardians until tomorrow night?"

"Dinner at _your_ house," Alex beamed, "Dad's working OT this weekend and didn't leave pizza money out."

"You?" He asked to Ian who looked bummed.

"Mark has lessons scheduled, so I _can't_ stay for dinner tonight, but tomorrow I'll head over at 4… is he staying overnight?" He gestured to Alex.

"On Halloween? Yeah, you can both couch-surf, _but_ the attic guest room has dibs, so either you two are bunking or one of you're _literally_ couch-surfing."

"Be my big spoon?" Ian asked Alex in a teasing, cloyingly debonair voice as he knealed.

"No way, I'm a _little_ spoon." Alex reminded.

Venus laughed, "Careful Alex, Ian's a total forker."

"Young lady," Darren said trying desperately not to laugh, "if you want _dad jokes_ …" Her face blanched. "Why can't you ever confide in a clock? –Because _time_ will _tell_ …" he opened.

She bowed her head, "Don't you dare embarrass me here!"

"Why? Will you make like the Spanish Magician and disappear without a tres?" He snapped his hands and flourished them in jazz-hand gesticulations.

Venus turned on her heels and walked briskly to the car.

Darren let his voice boon as he called toward her, "What do you call a watch dog? –ROLEX." He smiled and pointed to his own watch giving a double-thumbs up gesture as he grinned at her.

She spun on a pivot. "One more. You say _one more_ and you see what happens."

Jonny clamped a hand over his mouth trying not to laugh at the puns.

In mock crestfallen voice, Darren called out more somberly, "Oh… you'd have gone with Timex, huh?"

Venus growled; both Ian and Alex were smart enough to evade the fall-out as they refused to lock eyes with her in her fury.

"I'm not _sharing_ my 100-Grands now!" She hissed, " _Stop it_."

"Aww, don't be _stingy_." He strode to her and poked her side repeatedly to pester her a bit more as he got to the car himself.

" _DAD_! Stop it!" She frowned, furious at him. "Jonny, he's _usually_ nice! Please ignore his _innumerable faults_."

"I thought that last one was funny—sorry, I _like_ puns." Jonny countered, "And at least your dad jokes around, mine's serious like _all the time_."

"Time-X." Darren corrected with a too-serious nod.

Venus turned her neck slowly, mimicking a haunted doll to glare at her dad.

"Okay, okay, Princess, I'll reel it back." He laughed but gave a warm smile impossible not to forgive.

-Chapter 3 JQ-

As dinner ended, Alex slipped Venus two bags. "No looking until _tomorrow_ or the Old Witch'll get you…" He warned with a large smile, he pulled two other bags—his and Ian's. "It has all the stuff you'll need in them, makeup too!"

"Old Witch?" Jonny asked in a lilted tone, unsure of the reference.

Venus shrugged, "He probably means De, I wouldn't put it past her to ground up the bones of ill-behaved children…" she drawled out and laughed maniacally then cut it off near-instantly once her point was made. Alex waggled his eyebrows at her, "So now what, want to share scary stories?"

Jonny smiled, "Actually, I brought an album over, I have to take it back but I can show you what mom looked like…"

Alex stretched, "Oh wow, it's _that_ late already? I better knock out my homework—" he excused himself politely.

Venus looked at him oddly though Jonny gave him an appreciative smile for the privacy.

With just the two of them in her room, she closed the door and sat on her bed Indian-style, Jonny sat next to her in a stretched position, his leg would be anything but happy if he'd sat the same way. Album planted between them, he rifled through a few images, "This is the house in Maine." He started from more current entries and worked backwards.

"Who're they?" She pointed at a photo of a group of boys flanking Jonny.

"Oh, that was from last year—that's Matt and Bobby Evans, and TK Watson. They're my friends from school, TK's the one with dark brown hair, and Matt's in the middle. He and Bobby are identical twins, you can tell them apart because Matt's got a lazy eye."

Venus nodded along listening to him talk about which classes they shared.

"We're the class clowns, but we're also all high-honor roll, so it's mostly because we're bored stiff. We're in a few classes together this year though, so that's fortunate."

"How _is_ school going, anyway?"

"Frankly, a lot better, dad's trying right now… which… I dunno if it'll last, but while it is, it's pretty nice."

She nodded to herself at that, "Is that your dog?"

"Yep, that's Bandit, and our house—the estate includes that lighthouse too."

"Niiiiice."

He flipped further into the book, "This is where we lived in the Florida Keys. It had a Base on the same island."

"Oh wow—Army?"

"Intelligence One, we moved there after a failed kidnapping attempt." He blushed, "—dad and mom had another house in Florida before that, too… I think there's some pictures where you can see _it_ too."

"What about pictures of _her_?" She asked after a long moment, the album had handfuls of candid shots, usually one or two family members at a time, but some group shots speckled the earlier entries, not too many were _full_ pictures, someone always just off-frame to be self-reliant in that way. She noticed there weren't any _professional_ photos though.

He smiled as he pointed to one of their mom as she laughed at the camera, "Dad took that one…" he said breezily, "On the beach and this one…" he flipped to the previous page, "from the same day, we went on a picnic to get used to the new place."

He showed her one with him on his mom's lap as his dad rushed back into the picture frame as the timer clicked down.

"He looks really happy in that one…" She noted blankly, Jonny tensed at that.

"…Yeah, he _used_ to be really happy like that all the time when mom was alive… He took life way less seriously then, too, I think." He shook his head, "I don't mean that he's _not_ happy now… it's just… different, in a lot of ways really. I know it's hard on him too."

"…Yeah…" Venus responded as she thought about the loss of _her_ mom, and how hard that was on both she and her dad. Seeming to pick up on that, Jonny closed the album and looked at her. Her eyes watered at their edges. "I feel bad that dad's not _welcome_ on our trick or treating…"

"But you said that was self-imposed."

She shook her head, "It's because the others _asked_ when I'd be allowed to… It's not about being _allowed_ , I just like spending time with him on Halloween… it's dad's _favorite_. He makes it a point to be _fun_."

"What'll he be doing then?"

"Scaring the crap outta teenagers, and when he decides to head in, watch scary movies with his partner."

"You mean De? I haven't met her." He asked with a smile.

She shrugged, "Yeah, she _hates_ kids, I'm the closest to one she _likes_ and that's capped at strongly tolerates. I wouldn't hold your breath. She knows Race, though, they might even be working through those Gaia leads at the HQ right now… not that he'd recognize her from back when _she_ knew him… she reinvents herself regularly and they knew each other back when he was called Snow and Whitey, I don't think he recognized her when she met him for the hand-off when I was real little."

"…And Race knew Phil, too?"

"Mhmm! Uncle Phil is two years older then Race, and about 8 years older than my dad. De's a little older than my dad, too, she's pretty good at deep ops… but mostly, she's super independent and anyone getting in the way of that bugs her to no end."

He wasn't sure about the switch in topics.

"That's why I was in _her_ care for a while actually, Uncle Phil thought he could soften her or give her baby fever or something stupid like that… increase her i _nterdependence._ It did not work out that way. She made dad _babysit_ so she could _work_ and was pissed to learn two year olds couldn't cook for themselves." She giggled.

"Oh wow, that's so bad." He laughed awkwardly.

She shrugged, "She doesn't have that _maternal gene_ , she thinks kids _should_ be fully functional adults. One time, when dad had to have surgery, he busted up his knee when some Ivans tried to ice me, she had me watch _The Thing_ and when dad found out he was super pissed, I was 4 when she did that… luckily I watched from the way beginning when they give away the plot in Norwegian, so I understood the escaping scientist ranting about the alien dogs… I called it the doggy movie…" She hooted. "And dad got her back by making her watch _Killer Klowns from Outer Space_ on Halloween when he found out since she hates clowns… since then, they catch a movie together to wrap down the season."

"Why'd she show you a horror movie at 4?"

Almost reverently, Venus put a hand over her heart, "…It was so I wouldn't feel lonely, or so she says." Venus cracked a dark smile, "She's not… really normal. There's a reason we call her an old witch."

The way Jonny's eyebrows shot upward agreed with her. "That's _dark_."

Venus shrugged, "Dad and she prank each other lots, it's just their humor but she doesn't really _get_ kids… besides, I'm not mad it happened, plus it's a tradition they have too, so all's well that ends well…"

He nodded at her as she trailed off.

"What are some of your family traditions?"

-Chapter 3 JQ-

By 9:30 PM, Venus had conked out sitting upright. Jonny extracted himself to carry the album back to his guest room. He saw Darren wave him over and momentarily diverted to approach.

"Hey, she fell asleep." He smiled at the brunette.

"She hasn't been sleeping well, so no surprise there. Let me check on her and then I'd like to chat with you about tomorrow, cool?"

"Cool, where?"

"Meet the boys and me in the living room."

He nodded and resumed his stiff trek back up the stairs to the walk-up attic guest suite.

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Alex and Ian sat on the couch in the living room; Jonny did a double-take at the sight of Ian there so late.

"Oh, Alex called him over after dinner when you two were upstairs…" Darren hand-waved, Jonny nodded and sat next to them on the couch. "Okay, high-level safety rules—this is a crash-course for you Jonny. Keep your phones with you, I won't bug you but check in on the top of the hour or when you move to another route. If there's an emergency and you need to get somewhere safe—text me that you're headed to Penn, that's how we know if someone's going for safety. Back-up is around, and the guys here are pretty reliable despite their looks." He smirked at Alex and Ian, "Also, I hear you kids went for some pretty generic costumes, use that to your advantage. Plain-sight stealth is low-tech but it'll also afford you the flexibility to walk around without having to look over your shoulders. I don't want to scare you, but we _don't_ have eyes on Claire and Jenna yet, Race is working on it with Phil, but I'm not going to be a tag-along. Make good judgments. As for security routes, stick to the areas we know, there are designated routes and muster-points… you're not from here, so you stick to these two like glue. Capeesh?"

Jonny nodded solemnly, his head tilted, "Why Penn?"

Darren cracked a toothy smile, "Not like I expect you to need it, but being over-prepared is far better than under-prepared—and as any New Yorker would tell you, you only go to Penn when you're trying to get _out_."

The dawning look in blue eyes made Darren laugh a little to himself. "I want you kids to stay close by, check in on the reg and keep ammo."

" _Ammo?!_ " Jonny jumped.

"Yeah, standard fare, eggs, TP, flour— _ammo_. If anyone starts in on you, use it. You won't get in trouble."

"… _Oh_ , you meant like _that_." Jonny laughed nervously.

"Now you two, keep a close eye on _her_." He wagged his finger over Ian and Alex.

"Yes sir." They said in response to the direct order. Jonny blinked, Darren'd said he hated being called sir. "…I suppose she's going to be sensitive around _props_. _Ian_ …"

The oldest of the boys looked at Darren in the eyes.

"Were you training her today?"

"No sir. She's been watching to desensitize though."

He clucked his tongue, "So she _is_ having flashbacks… damn." He sighed in frustration, "Alex has she told you about it?"

"No but I surmised. She's been _really tired_ lately. More than what I'd expect from being hurt."

"And you?" He asked Ian again.

Ian shook his head, "Not about _what_ , I thought it was about the grab-and-stab, but no guarantees there."

Darren looked at Jonny, "She didn't by chance open up to you and talk about her nightmares, huh?"

"…I'm sorry? I don't understand what you're asking me?" Jonny's voice rose.

"She has PTSD, you know _that_ , and right now something's been triggering her. It could be related to the asshole who grabbed her, but it could be some old wounds, it could be a lot of things honestly… did she hint at anything to you?"

"I don't _think_ so, not anything specific at least… well, blood I guess."

"Blood?" He asked without tipping his hand.

"Yeah, I asked her if she was scared of anything and she'd told me how De's afraid of—"

"Don't finish that sentence." Darren cut in and eyed the two mischief-makers on his couch, "So she said she's _scared_ of blood, not _heights_?"

"She said both make her _uncomfortable_."

Darren's eyes shifted to Ian.

"…Yeah? Well, given what happened, I suppose that makes sense…" he said in a way that didn't seem satisfied with the answer.

" _We're_ not carrying props, are we?" Jonny looked at Alex as he realized what Michael Myers was known for carrying.

"No way, that interferes with candy-hauling." Ian said tactfully. He had no desire to get on the wrong side of her tweaking out.

"Alright, Ian are you sleeping over, or what?" Darren decided that at 11PM he wanted lights out and if that meant Ian getting to couch surf or go home, he'd need to facilitate it.

"Eh, I brought my bike. I'll head back, see you tomorrow." He bowed out with a wave, standing.

Darren nodded, "Call Mark first, tell him you're en route."

He saluted, the cheeky little shit.

Alex took the stairs as he headed up to his normal abode. Darren caught Jonny's arm as the blond stood, "Kitchen."

The blond nodded curtly, expecting it.

In the more private space, Jonny opened, "I think she told me a _whole_ truth…"

Darren's eyebrow shot up, "Yeah? And what's _that_?"

"…About how she got that scar on her arm…" He skirted, "And what a chair can do."

Darren nodded slowly, "And what _else_ did she say about it?"

The youth swallowed thickly, "Mr. Kiers, please don't make me spell it out. I know why these appliances are black and I know about Stern _and_ Peroga—and what _he_ sent to your phone."

Darren's eyes looked wet yet his mouth felt dry, "Yeah, yeah that's a helluva whole truth. Why'd she tell you—if you don't mind my asking? Honestly, she talked a little about it with Becs, and De knew from the ground floor much like myself… but _no one else_ had _full_ read-in besides her and two dead guys."

Jonny paled as he looked down, "We compared sob stories."

Darren didn't understand the reference, "Yeah, she has a lot to pick from, that's not one of her go-tos…"

"We _compared_ sob stories." He restated. The emphasis hit Darren like a mallet.

" _Oh_." He eyed the boy, "Does cocoa calm you down too?" He gestured him to sit.

Jonny took it, "Yeah."

"Not to _pry_ …"

"—It happened days before I turned 13. Before we moved to Portland for _keeps_ , when I was 11 dad had wanted to but after I'd broken my leg there were… practicalities to consider, then when I was 12 Jess had moved in over the summer to test the waters, and well, we moved back to Portland after I turned 13, and we stayed."

He set the heated milk tincture before the blond.

"—And well, I didn't mind it _half as much_ that second time. The goons who grabbed dad and me… let's just say it warranted dad taking the stairs with a cane." His body seemed to go taut.

Darren cleared his throat, "When'd he _get_ a cane?"

"…When I shot him trying to shoot my rapist—that goon hit my arm between shots—there were three of them, and my dad and I were in a small room… and I wasn't in particularly good shape at the time."

"I… I've gotta say, that's one helluva sob story."

Jonny gave a dry laugh, he'd half-expected another platitude and apology. "You two don't do those garbage 'sorries' do you?"

"No, we don't." Jonny sipped while Darren spoke, "What good are empty platitudes? We have enough survivor's guilt between the two of us to not pile more on to each other."

Jonny smiled at that, often the subject of that off-load.

" _Ian_ knows how to handle her if she tweaks out. I cannot recommend highly enough that you do not attempt it, though. You remember going to that treatment center in Illinois? The one Phil runs? I called Ian in because I needed someone I could trust to find her triggers and I was the only person who could pull her out of the frenzy so I couldn't well enough be the guy to pull her triggers. Now, he didn't figure out everything she was subjected to, but he did suss out the tortured for months part. He knows what'll set her off, and just how hard it is to walk her back from there so _listen_ to him. If he tells you to back the fuck up, he's not joking. Alex can't take her in a fight but he can usually read her well enough to distract her—derail it while reinforcements get called in. They're damn good kids, little shits through and through, but good kids. If _you_ get a feeling, don't keep it to yourself. You tell them or you tell me, you've got great instincts and I trust you, too. Capeesh?"

He nodded.

"Okay, I promised your dad lights out by 11, while personally I'm fine with you choosing otherwise, it's 11. You want to rack up?"

"Yeah, I'd like to get to bed on time."

"A'ight, g'night." Darren winked, bussing the teen's now empty mug.

Jonny smiled back, "Good night, Darren."

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Blinking at the costume in confusion, Venus eyed it then her brother then _it_ again. "…I… don't get it?"

She looked at the flannel shirt, the white ribbed tank-top, Daisy-Dukes cut-off jean shorts, a bandana, socks and sneakers. There was no wig, no mask, just normal clothes… _summer_ clothes at that!

"—I think it's the special FX that make it." Jonny recommended; he found it odd that she didn't get it.

" _Oh_ , like face paint?" She tilted her head.

"…Uh, no. Let me, okay?"

She shrugged, "Knock yourself out."

"Okay, put this on and tie your hair into a high ponytail, then I'll do the makeup."

"Thanks." She pulled off her shirt, turning around before it was overhead.

Jonny blushed involuntarily, "SIS! –I can step _out_ you know—"

"Why bother? I'll be done in a sec anyway—see, all done!"

They both turned to face each other, she poked his cheek, "Aw, you're _blushing_!"

"Well, yeah—you're my _sister_."

She rolled her eyes, "Exactly." She tied her hair up into a high ponytail and sat in a chair facing him, "Don't tell me you freak out on Hadji if he changes in front of you?"

"No, of course not, but we're both _guys_ …"

"Oh whatever," she countered, Jonny pulled out the provided makeup and bandana. Given how she'd worn the flannel, and how cold it was supposed to get he decided to use it as a wrap on her leg. He gussied up her knuckles to look bruised, dirtied her cuticles and gave her cheek a decent red-purple bruise and dribble of stage-blood at her nose, then made a leg gash with oozing blood that the bandana covered in a hasty tourniquet.

"Alright, let me wash up and then I'll get into my jumpsuit and mask."

"Okay, I'll meet you downstairs, _bashful_."

He rolled his eyes, "It's not like I care about _my_ privacy—but _you're_ a _girl_."

"So what? Oh! You're not _used_ to seeing girls…" Jonny gave her a short look. "…In various states of undress or elsewise." She teased harder.

He tossed a pillow at her, "Don't make it sound even creepier. I'm 14 and my dad's a professional _nerd_. Of course I don't see lots of naked girls."

"I wasn't naked." Venus gibed, "For one, girls wear these _magical_ devices called _bras_ —"

"Okay, I'm out." Jonny left grossed out and laughing at the same time. Girls sure were weird! He wasn't sure if he felt mortified or educated, truthfully the homeschooling definitely glossed over the opposite sex, with the empty words of 'we'll get back to that when you're older,' or some such.

He exited the bathroom in time to see Darren gawk at his daughter.

"Venus…?" He asked her, baffled by the lack of costume.

"I'm a final girl, Jonny did the makeup, does it look good?" She gestured her hands and leg.

"You saw it?" Darren still measured.

"Not the face-paint, but the rest looks good so…"

"—Okay, I want all of you back _here_ by 10. If you go back out after that, that's fine, but you young lady will need to put on fleece leggings for round two."

" _Dad_! I know when and if I'm _cold_."

"Baby, I'm dead serious, it'll get _freezing_ tonight, these little shits have on _thermals_."

"Since when are _you_ a worry-wart?" She crossed her arms.

He gave her a quick hug, "I'm not, since when did you want hypothermia?"

" _Dad_ you're embarrassing me…" she whined.

"If so, please keep going. She got _me_ upstairs." Jonny needled.

"Okay, you two load up the pillowcases—routes, marked supply drops, eggs, TP, flour, flashlights, phones— _you two_ — a _word_ please." He said to Ian and Alex, the boys sweating bullets under their masks.

"No flour, dad!"

"Don't be a Beverly Buzzkill, princess." He shooed her out to the kitchen and eyed his target prey. Once she was out of his periphery he cut in in fierce whispers, "Explain yourselves you little shits!"

"It was him!" Ian deflected.

"It was a theme!" Alex added in protest, he snuck in a scowl at Ian then went back on the defensive.

" _No_ mask, _no_ wig, and _violent imagery_?! You both are to watch her like a _hawk_ — _any_ tells whatsoever _even_ if she compensates, you _call_ me."

Defeated, they conceded in time, "Yes sir."

"Both of you little shits… you know how much attention that costume's going to get? Ian, watch for _rats_ like a _hungry hawk_."

"—Dad, I packed up the bags!" Venus called from the other room.

In a sing-song voice he called, "Oh Jonny, don't forget to pack that flour!"

"Dad, I'm in a room with _knives_ , no flour." Venus reiterated just as sing-songy.

Under-breath he seethed at Alex, "You—I'm not _joking_ , get it on your way out."

"On it, sir."

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Jonny shivered through his costume, "Oh my god he wasn't kidding! I could _piss_ ice cubes—" Jonny mumbled through his mask.

"What happened to _I live in Maine_?" Alex gibed, enjoying the crisp air.

"Yeah—in _wool sweaters_ and _corduroy pants_!" Jonny said through chattering teeth.

"Your _sister_ can handle it."

Venus glared at them all, "Alex, _you're in_ a wool sweater and corduroys, both of them are in cotton. Don't be too obnoxious about it. And of course _I'm_ fine, I'm half polar bear and half penguin—and _all_ scientific rebuke for unethical experimentations, Jonny, eat some chocolate—the sugar'll warm you up."

"No way! Dad'll _know_ , I'll get in way too much trouble—I'd rather just be cold."

She laughed, "Trouble for eating candy on Halloween? …No, never mind, he'd probably lecture you for littering on xmas eve for opening a present."

"Christmas _eve_?" Jonny asked, "No, we only open on Christmas Day."

" _Huh_? What about fish dishes, do you not do that _either_?"

"Ham, lamb, or turkey feast, usually _lamb_."

Her mouth gaped as she fixed him in her stare, "Oh wow, and you live in _Maine_ , seafood capital of the East Coast, and you still do it wrong?"

"Uh, holiday traditions aren't right or wrong…"

"Bullshit! Not eating candy on Halloween _is_ wrong, fundamentally so!" She flicked his fake hair on his mask then froze to look past him, her face muted.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, Mike," Venus smiled, "I thought I saw the ghost of childhood wasted." He gave her a skeptical look, not that she'd see it from under his mask. "Don't be like that. Dad steals a _lot_ of candy, we need to cover ground."

"Of which, we need to check in." Alex reminded as he texted in the update, 'On to Route B.'

Jonny shuffled through his bag and pulled out his watch then also sent a signal.

"Why's your watch in your bag anyway?"

"It doesn't fit under the gloves—do you mind keeping it on?"

"Sure, so you don't lose it?" He nodded. "Your dad has it synced on a system for entries or something?"

"Huh? No, it has a calorie counter, but I have to click it over or it just stays at the hundreds place."

Venus shrugged, "I thought your school friends called you the Bond Chick, why no cool gadgets? Isn't your dad some glorified Agent Q?" She rolled her eyes and slipped on his watch.

"Oh look, it's piccola troia!"

Venus closer her eyes and muttered under her breath, pissed, "Damn it." She opened her eyes and shot a dark smile, "Oh Will—I don't see _your mom_."

He spat at her feet. "Three guys at once? What a _pro_." He volleyed.

Ian slipped in front of Venus, "Hand me the quiche, Fred."

Venus looked at Ian not getting it. Alex took out the eggs, "Gladly, Jay."

"You three keep on going, I'll meet up with you at Foxtrot."

"Why are you bothering with this twerp, man? Come on, let's just go…" Venus called back, unsure why he was using code names. "It's _fine_ …"

Jonny touched her forearm, "No it's not. Look at the guy, he never grew out of the blastosphere stage developmentally."

"What's _that_ mean, dork?!"

"It means you're a giant asshole." Jonny said flatly, "And what with your obsession with whale dicks, I can see _why_ that matters to you. Sea World and PETA will be notified."

Venus doubled over laughing, "Holy shit that's hilarious not-Clark!"

"While, personally, I'd prefer to share my opinion, dad made me swear to be on my best behavior. Let's head out."

"Okay—yeah, foxtrot boogie!" She reminded Ian as they started to cut through the woods.

"Oi, Fred—pancakes, too." Ian called back from between them.

Alex shook his head, "You're going to be a hot mess… here." He sighed as he handed Ian the flour and took up the two pillowcases he was handed back.

Ian smiled gleefully from under his mask as he pulled off his glove and hefted two eggs. He sent one flying into Will's chest with satisfaction as it cracked open with a splatter.

Will swore as half a bag of flour was deployed alongside the dozen eggs, failing miserably at the dodge.

-Chapter 3 JQ-

"Who was _that_ jerk?" Jonny asked from the tree-line.

Venus shrugged, "Just a jerk from school. You ever get shoved into lessons that were 'for your benefit and enrichment' that you didn't want?" She asked all but rhetorically.

"Uh, yeah. Most of my life." Jonny clarified.

"Yeahhhh, dad made me take up the flute because he thought it would help me restore some lung capacity, in an all-boys boarding school he stuck me in with a bunch of pubescent horn-balls with a phallic instrument, and that happens to be one William Kildaire, I had the great misfortune of sitting near him as a fellow flautist since we were both brand new and in the last row for a quarter. He decided we would _date_ , I did not. So _that_ made me a little whore somehow…. Dad wouldn't let me drop until that fucker touched me. He's lucky I only gave him a shiner, I'd have broken his damn arm if I thought I'd get away with it."

"… _Touch_ you?" He seethed, tempted to turn back around to break his arm _now_.

She looked distantly, "Yeah… he tried to 'accidentally' rip my skirt off, because he's that kind of an idiot who thought anyone'd buy that." She shrugged. "Dad let me drop band after that though, and the nickname. Bonus, Will got fast-tracked into the dumbass class. The bottom dregs of the school that's just enough to keep him enrolled but no fun stuff, we're 'buddies' now." She stopped walking to look across the wood line.

"Are you okay?" Jonny asked.

"Y—yeah… I'm fine, someone's hanging back," she turned to Alex. "Do you notice them too? The harlequin and the witch?"

"In the Venetian mask and stilts… yeah. Witch?" Alex looked around, he didn't see anyone else. "That's harlequin's a weird costume though…"

"Eh, rich bored kids, but it's been _three_ times now…" Venus looked around.

Jonny looked at Alex. "Do we meet at _Penn_?"

"Not just yet we don't…" Alex pulled Ian's phone from his pillowcase, "Ah shit, we _have_ to make foxtrot so Vorheez can get his comms back. I'll text Darren to pick us up."

"—No! What's wrong with you? It's just some kid being creepy on Halloween!" Venus balked, "I don't want to call it quits for something so _lame_."

Jonny looked at Alex, then back toward where the stranger had been, they'd wandered off already. He pulled off his mask, "Call him. Sis, we need to call it in, both that Will jerk and now some creepy girl…?"

"Girl…?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, her blond hair was poking out."

"…Blond?" Venus asked, "I don't know any blond girl from school who'd bug us…" Her eyes widened as she saw the Harlequin strolling closer, she grabbed the top of Jonny's mask and tugged it down hard, "Foxtrot! Foxtrot and _Penn_! Go! _GO_!" She shoved Jonny hard forward.

"Woah! What's going on—" Jonny called back, startled by the sudden shift. He turned back to see the harlequin was gone again just as they got back to the street, his leg throbbing from the brisk run.

"Alex—call him!" She tossed her phone to the brunette.

"What's going _on_?" Jonny asked again, "Alex already _has_ two phones—you need to keep _yours_ on you…"

"He'll _know_ it's bad if it's _mine_." She hissed, her breath hitching as she scanned the perimeter. She pulled Alex and Jonny further into the crowds on the street while taking in Jonny's gait. "You—you gotta keep that mask on, Mike. Fred, you and Jay, too," she ordered fiercely.

"Venus—?" Jonny's eyes went wide, "Oh god, it's _Jenna_ isn't it?"

"Get him somewhere safe to wait this out."

"Oh no—don't even _think_ about—" Alex dialed Darren, "—You're _with_ us Venus, you _have_ to stay with us!"

Darren picked up, "What's wrong?"

"Foxtrot boogie and hurry!" Alex hung up, "Venus—damn it take your phone back!"

She caught it and shoved it back into her pillowcase.

"He's coming _here_ , we just have to wait him out."

Venus smiled at him, looking at them both as she kept scanning the area. "Yeah. You're right. You just have to wait him out."

Alex grabbed her wrist. "No, _we_ need to wait him out, that means _you too_." She nodded again. She turned toward a shaded driveway. "How many are you seeing?"

"…Two. It doesn't make _sense_ , Alex…" she whispered. She looked back at Jonny as he watched the same shaded spot. "Damn it, he should be _back_ by now."

"Just _chill_." Alex said forcefully.

"…Guys, I think the witch has a gun." Jonny said in a low voice.

"Shit, are you kidding me?!" Alex turned to look toward the second.

"There—Alex, see there?" She pointed toward a group of ten teenagers. "You two need to get there _now_."

"No way, you're sticking _with_ us—"

"Damn it, listen to yourself. I don't have cover, you do. TAKE it!" She turned toward the opposite direction, "I have the map—tell dad I'm at the spot."

"What the hell do you mean the spot?! Please, Venus—we're in _public_ … don't pull a ditzy first-girl move!" Alex eyed Jonny, grabbed the teen by his collar and pulled him toward the crowd as she pushed off in a sprint. "You! Don't you even _think_ it!"

" _ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!_ " Jonny screamed at him. Alex shoved him harder toward the group of strangers.

"No, I'm _not_." He glowered, " _she_ knows the locations. You don't, and she's right, she can draw them."

"She hasn't recovered from being _stabbed_. It was two on _three_ —we could've held out!"

Alex shook his head, "No you couldn't have."

The blond's shoulders dropped at the weight of those words.

"Now keep your head down. She'll be okay. She knows her stuff."

They watched as the harlequin disappeared back into the woods in the same direction as Venus.

"If they're together, why isn't the second one heading out, then? Want to answer me that?" He hissed as he pulled out the cellphone to dial Darren and update him.

On the first ring, Darren answered, "Talk to me."

"—Venus went to _the spot_ in Penn—she thinks it's Jenna."

"What spot?!" Darren spat.

Jonny's body went lax, "—What do you _mean_ , Alex said you'd know—!"

Alex grabbed Jonny and the phone, "You need to park it before you drop." Alex took the phone, "She ran east toward the wood line from Foxtrot, what's that mean to you?"

"That in two minutes all three of you punk asses will be in this car explaining what the actual fuck just happened! Where's Ian?"

Alex turned in time to see Ian approaching, his hockey-mask decorated tastefully with a real blood-smear. The teen was walking stiffly, his pace hastened as he seemed to realize that one of the little ducklings weren't where he'd left them.

"He's rendezvousing now." Alex put the phone back into Jonny's hand. "Yo, Jay, we have a sitch."

" _I'll_ say—where the hell is Venus?! I just ran into _Claire_."

"—She bugged out solo and Darren doesn't know where she went… wait, how did _you_ run into Claire?!"

Jonny spun on his feet and made a dash toward the woman in the shadows.

"DAMN IT!" Alex rushed after him as the blond skidded to a stop in front of the armed woman. "Are you fucking crazy?! She's armed—"

"…Doctor Arquette…" Jonny ripped off his mask. "You're not with Gaia, _are you_?"

Alex's jaw hit his chest, "…How do you know anything about Gaia?! And who are _you_?" He said to Arquette as she lowered her pistol.

"Joannene… thank goodness I have found you een time." She looked at the other boys. "Where ees your bodyguard? How can they have let you be alone?"

"…Why were you following my sister and me?"

"… _Sister_? You do not have a sister!" She looked at him in disbelief. "That girl… ees that what she said she was to you?! And you believed such a lie?!"

Jonny stared at the woman fiercely. "Why were you following me, Dr. Arquette?"

" _Arquette_?!" Alex blinked. "Oh shit."

Jonny turned to look at Alex, "How do you know about her?" He looked between the two.

"…We need to wait for Darren," he swallowed thickly. "Dr. Arquette, did you ever find your daughter?"

Arquette crossed her arms at her hips, "What I found was not her. Merely a parasitic wasp that consumed what once was. And that _girl_ you were with, she ees but another wasp… she was the one to steal my sweet Giselle away all those years ago."

"…Years ago?" Jonny looked between them.

"You don't know about Jenna, then?" Alex let out a depressed laugh. "Where's Pierre and Gustav?"

"Dead. Giselle keeled them." She said solemnly, "This was so she could never be free of Gaia. That ees what they do. They steal away children—they corrupt them een such a way… and then when they are certain their allegiance ees guaranteed, they _let_ them go home to destroy it. To ensure there ees nowhere else for them to go."

Jonny's mouth dropped, "…But Venus never…"

Alex cleared his throat, "Your daughter went missing five years ago, and then your husband and son went missing January this year…" Alex swallowed thickly, "You're no friend of Gaia's… but I assume you know their mission."

"But of course, it ees to fleep Intelligence One operators." She said flatly, "and make their own." Her eyes flitted over Jonny, "To do that, they target children with potential. These beautiful caterpillars destined to transform into majestic butterflies—and instead they poison them with wasp larva who will eat their hosts, leave nothing but a shell and then when they hatch, they think they have transformed into this beautiful beast, but all they have become ees _shit_."

"…Is that why you poisoned _me_?" Jonny asked levelly. "Is that why you killed Dr. Yuan in Paris?"

"…That was an unfortunate event… Joannene, I did send that letter to your father, but it was not to threaten him, it was to _warn_ him of what was to come. Yuan tried to murder me, do you know why you lived? Do you understand this?"

Jonny looked down the road seeing Darren's Z3 pulling up rapidly. The man slammed his door open and closed as he rushed toward the small conglomeration.

"…She was trying to keel me. But then _you_ drank the tea, it would have been lethal to you, the dose too much. That could not happen, you are marked for them. They want you— _alive_. They would take your father as a bonus, but _you_ are their target. You could not be keeled, it would be a waste to them, so she _solved_ the riddle quickly. Quick enough for you to be saved, and the consequence of harming you, of tipping their hand to you cost her life."

Alex locked eyes with Arquette then Darren, "Do you know who the Pied Piper is?"

She nodded once, "He handles the recruitment of the children. He sends his most loyal to recruit other exceptional children and lure them to him."

Alex nodded, "That's about right, sometimes at least… Did you know why he stopped targeting kids younger than 10?"

The woman blinked at him, "You cannot possibly know that."

"Who the hell is this? Kids, what the hell's going on?" Alex pressed a hand out in front of Darren to signal he was working on it.

"…Oh, I have a hypothesis though. That happens to be one Jenna Korvin. When she was 7 she went missing for a month, came back all sorts of off. She was diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder, I've met the pied piper myself with Venus when we were 11… except we were together and able to shoot off a distress signal—and that guy there—" he pointed to Darren, "—Got us out before he could do what he wanted, which was to condition us. As for Jenna, guess who she happens to look like. And coincidentally, she went missing in Europe. I hear she visits there a lot, too."

Ian chimed, "And where _is_ Venus, Alex?"

"We don't know, Ian. Because she ran off thinking this one with the gun was Claire and Jenna was boxing us in."

Ian grabbed the back of his neck, "…Some heck of a trick, since Claire tried to hit _me_ with a car about ten blocks away."

"…Tried?" Alex turned to look at Ian, suddenly realizing why he looked roughed up.

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, _tried_ , I dodged and took a hard tumble. Shit, I'm hardcore but if you hit me with a car, I'd still bleed."

"Could we maybe focus on finding my _sister_ now…" Jonny glared. "Jenna's after her and she doesn't know about Claire _too_."

Darren put a hand on Jonny's shoulder. "Come on, you have to get out of the open. I called Race in. Both of you, stay with this one and wait for De."

Jonny begrudgingly hobbled into the awaiting Z3, his mask on his lap looking up at him.

"…Darren, is Gaia making their move?"

"Gaia? Why would Jenna and Gaia be tied in?" He asked more to gauge Jonny than to disagree.

"…Did Jenna fail conditioning, or did she pass?" Jonny asked in a depressed voice.

The scoff Darren let out shocked him enough to look toward the brunette as he drew out a clove cigarette. "…Gaia doesn't do pass-fail, that shit's all the Pied Piper. We also call him Allen, that's the pseudonym he gave Venus when he first approached her."

The teenager waited.

"…I don't think Jenna's the operator. I think it's Claire. I just think Jenna's the gun." Darren said sadly, shaking his head, "That's what makes her so dangerous. Your sister, she _won't_ hurt Jenna. She's never hit her back…" he gulped as he maneuvered the car in the direction she'd last been seen heading.

"…Darren, do you have a sat-comm?" Jonny asked darkly. "She has my watch on, if I can get to a laptop that can link in, I can ping her location."

"Damn, you really _do_ have great instincts. Yeah, let me pull over."

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Venus clutched her side, it felt like fire moving up and down her entire right side. Her dad had been right about her core being totally fucked over.

She glared at the harlequin, and was surprised the witch wasn't around. She eyed the other woman, so she switched out an old witch for a bitch. "Hello Aunt Claire." She called out to the woman.

The rueful laugh that hung in the air made her stomach sour.

"Jenna, my lamb, bring her here. It's time we dealt with her once and for all."

Venus instinctively backed away from Jenna, she saw the pistol in Claire's hand and wasn't sure what to make of the information. "…Aunt Claire, what are you doing with that?"

"You're not my kin, you usurping alien. Jenna, let's get rid of this leech, be free of her!" She smiled, now taking point with her Smith and Weston revolver. Venus didn't like the odds, pinned between Jenna and Claire with a gun. She swallowed hard, where the hell was her backup?!

"Jenna, stop… I'm begging you, don't make me…" She said in a low warning.

"…Once we get rid of her, we can free Jonny, aren't you so glad to have a _brother_ , angel!"

Venus took in a sharp breath and turned to sprint. The run was _awful_ , endurance running had really never been her favorite, and being chased by a psychotic clown and an old hag was really not how she anticipated her Halloween to go. Still holding her pillowcase, knowing her phone was her last life-line, she pushed to get to denser foliage.

Jenna overtook her, tackling her into a roll.

She bit back a wince and whipped the bag into the other girl's head, knocking the mask free.

Venus bit back a gasp. Shit this was bad. Jenna really did dye her hair back to Venus's shade, styling it the same way, hell, she was even wearing contouring makeup to make her nose look smaller, more delicate… She head-butted the teen pinning her; a hand crushed down on her throat and slammed her back into the soft earth. Venus's hands skimmed the ground searching for anything of value. Finding a rock within reach, she tried again. "Jenna! Please! Stop—"

Her voice cut as the pressure increased on her larynx. The edges of her vision were starting to dim. She shook her head, "Claire—why?! Aunt Claire… _Aunt Claire_!" She pleaded.

"Oh angel, it won't do to make it look like murder—the ravine. Throw her off the ravine." She smiled, still angling the gun toward them both.

Venus swung the rock hard, the clocking sound as she hit Jenna square to the side of the head spilt the older girl. She let out a shriek as she rolled and pressed off the ground, again running on already depleted tanks. She felt nauseated as she pushed toward the very direction Claire had signaled Jenna to force her.

"Oh, angel, are you taking a nap on mama? No bother, I'll take a turn." She sauntered gracefully toward Venus as the girl's speed rapidly dropped on her.

Panting, Venus looked over the drop and then to the woman who'd been the closest observable mother figure she'd had in her early life. " _Why_ are you doing this?!"

"Because fuck you, that's why." Claire leveled the pistol and cracked the shot. Venus made the only dive available to her, the tumble was hard, and longer than she'd preferred as she spilled over the twenty foot drop on a 60-degree incline.

It felt like she hit every goddamned jutted rock on that insufferable roll as she finally halted at the bottom of the hill. Her special FX makeup complimented beautifully by her new, real bruised and scrapes.

She let out a low groan as she self-assessed. Fingers, toes, arms, legs, elbows, shoulders, knees, hip, ankles, wrists—all of them seemed willing to still move, if she could garner the energy to simply do it. Her neck lulled to the side, her spilt Halloween stash and ripped pillowcase scattered around her, a dozen pre-scrambled eggs, yolk-drenched toilet paper, and a perfectly ruined cell phone sandwiched a rock in between it's shattered body. "…Double fuck."

Her hand fished over two candy bars, she looked back up the ravine. At least she had some cover in the shade, the cold, dank muck she landed in was definitely not where she wanted to hang out though.

"Oh no! Are you hurt? Did I _miss_?" Claire laughed from above.

Venus clenched her teeth.

"Don't worry. I won't miss Jonny. You know, it really pisses me off that I can't outright kill you, you little bitch." She sang, "You stole _everything_ from me. You ruined my marriage, my only daughter… what happened to _her_ , it should've happened to you, you wretched thing. And that asshole father of yours… but no matter, I'll save you for Allen, he has special plans for you. And your brother? Because he's _your_ blood kin, there's a special treat in store to break him in." She laughed in a jovial voice. "I don't even think he'll be of much use afterwards, but Allen disagrees and frankly, I'm just along for the ride to watch your world burn."

She aimed the gun and fired into the ravine blindly. The shots ranged wide, missing Venus by well over five meters all the way around.

"Say hello to that cunt, Becky."

Venus bit her lip to hold in the sob. She staged a single scream at the last shot and then held her breath, hoping she wouldn't reload. Then she listened.

She heard a car door, and another, then the sound of a car driving off with a strained belt. She muffled a cry and pulled over the two candy bars she'd picked up. A mini Musketeers bar and a fun-sized 100 Grand.

She chomped them down, hoping the sugar would be enough to warm her a little. Damn it, _now_ she was cold.

After a long minute, she pushed herself upward. That assessment of everything attached and working was right, but the whole shebang was angry to be put to work, as told by the throb from her ankle and side and slow ache in her shoulder. She looked around.

"Where the shit is this? Whiskey or is it Kilo? What damn road is that…? What side did I dive off…" She closed her eyes trying to orient herself. "…Ran through Lima… and skirted Romeo… gotta be Whiskey, so the cemetery's not too far…" her voice went somber as she thought about who she'd see there, or at least the tombstone of.

She shivered, looked at the watch, damn it! It was already 10:30. Her dad was going to be pissed she missed curfew. With that thought in mind, she grabbed another handful of candy confections and hobbled toward the safest gated community in a 2 mile radius.

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Curled against the tasteful tombstone with a carved likeness of an angel of peace, Venus closed her eyes, her fingers traced the lettering below the 4 foot figurine, the tombstone and statue coming to 5 feet in height.

She could hardly recognize the name, _Rebecca Nordland Cherished Always_ and an embellished star. Her hand stopped in the dip of the star as she whispered a breathy, "…Mom… mom I don't want to be alone…"

Her other arm curved around the cold stone, embracing it in a hug as her head rested against her arm. The watch face cast a soft, constant blue light as she dozed.

" _Sweetheart, how do you want to wear your hair today?"_

"… _Could you put it in a fishtail? Those look so cool, Becky!"_

" _You know, I'm really looking forward to seeing your school. Your dad thinks I should be the gym teacher so I can make you climb that rock wall…"_

Venus shivered as she dreamt.

" _Over my dead body. I_ hate _heights."_

She almost could hear the faint way Becky laughed, she could hear her calling.

" _We'd better wait up for your dad, sweetheart… wake up for…"_

"Wake up—for the love of god, grant me a damn armistice and _wake up_ …"

"…Dad…?"

-Chapter 3 JQ-

"You've got the signal? Where to then?" Darren watched over Jonny's shoulders as the laptop screen showed a glowing dot. A map slowly populated over it. How 45 minutes could stretch into the expanses of such a deep cluster-fuck, Darren was colored impressed.

Maybe Benton was really on to how much trouble these kids were magnets to.

"There—is… is that the cemetery?" Jonny asked, horrified. "Oh god, they aren't going to try to hide her _body_ …"

Darren put a hand on his shoulder, "Don't even _finish_ saying that. Buckle up, this baby can handle the roads here at 120, and I'm going to prove it." The three minute drive ended at the gates of the St. Peter's cemetery. "Open the glove box, Jonny."

Shakily, the teen obliged, he was greeted with a Beretta 92, 9mm.

"Stay in the car, if anyone asks you to do elsewise… well…" He looked suggestively at the pistol. "It's loaded, the safety's here." Darren put the gun into Jonny's hands. "You good?"

The teen nodded, flicking the safety and chambered a round. "…Yes sir."

Darren ruffled his hair, "Don't call me a goddamned sir. I'm going to go pick up my kid." He smiled more for Jonny's sake than his own and slid through the narrow opening.

He'd seen where she was pinged, that would've been a chosen spot, a muster point in the event she _couldn't_ get to where she really needed to be. "Baby… I'm almost there." He whispered to himself, his own Sig Sauer at the ready.

At the sight of his daughter limply cuddling the statue honoring the recently deceased, Darren broke into a run, he slipped the pistol into his jacket pocket to free his hand. "Venus… _sweetheart_ …" he tapped her, she felt icier than the damned marble slab she was hugging!

"Wake up—for the love of god, grant me a damn armistice and _wake up_ …" He clapped her face.

That earned him a breathy moan, "…Mommy… dad's…"

"Shit-balls!" Darren hissed, he pulled off his jacket and wrapped her in it then hoisted her up, "Venus, dad's here for you… are you hurt sweetie?" his voice boomed.

Venus blinked tiredly, they were supposed to meet at the _spot_ , she knew this wasn't it, but it was as close to _home_ as she could manage. She wasn't sure how her dad would've gotten _here_ so fast… there'd have been other muster points to check first… "…Daddy?"

Darren pulled her, bomber jacket and all, into his chest to crush her into a bear hug, kissing her ear, "Yeah, sweetie, dad's here. I've got you. I'm taking you home now… so wake up, you _have_ to open your eyes for me now."

He rubbed at her arms and legs, "C'mon, we don't do these kinds of _mean_ tricks," he hoisted her up and began to trek her back to the gates and the car.

Jonny was at the gate waiting for them the moment he registered the sight, "Is she…?!"

"Ass. In. Seat." He reminded the teenage who immediately ignored said instruction to help him maneuver Venus through the cast-iron gate.

"She's _freezing_ …" Jonny noted. Darren held in the sarcastic quip, fairly sure it wouldn't help.

Once they were through the gate, he picked her back up in a princess-carry, she felt lighter than he readily recalled her being.

"Get your ass in the car, and buckle in." He said in a steely voice. As instructed, Jonny was back in shotgun, or maybe he should call it pistol?

With Venus stationed on Darren's lap, pressing her into his chest while her grinded his transmission, alternating between steering and up-shifting one-handed, he drove them back home.

"Kid, we get in that house and you run up those stairs and start the hot water in the master shower, you put it to scalding hot—and then you go get as many blankets as you can pull and put them right outside that bathroom door, _then_ you go lock the front damn door, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." Jonny swallowed thickly, appreciating the urgency in the man's tone. It reminded him of Race in emergency mode, except Race very rarely peppered in phrases like fuck-knuckles. "Darren, I'll call the others, tell them she's home."

Darren nodded in agreement, "I need to make my own calls _too_ , but that'll come later. I've gotta get her warmed back up."

At the driveway, Darren stalled out the manual, shifted it to Park and ripped the keys from the block. "Sorry baby…" he spoke both to his car and his kid, or so he imagined she'd think.

"I really, _really_ need you to wake all the way up now and give me that _status report_ , sweetie…" he coaxed in vain.

With a tug, they were back in the cold night air; he closed the car-door with a kick and carried his princess popsicle through the wide open door, up the stairs and to the master bathroom.

By time he peeled off _all_ her wet clothes, he noticed a sizeable pile of blankets.

"Sweetie, the hot water's probably going to sting," he warned, he carried her into the shower and braced himself into a wall while keeping her under the majority of the spray.

He felt her body tense rigid at the contact of hot water, he swore to god he felt her lips contort into a gasped cry only to drop into whispered whimpers and sporadic gasps of breath to say she was still in there.

"Come on, wake up." He rubbed her shoulders, cheek, arms—desperate to rouse her.

"…Aunt Claire… put down the gun… _please_ … don't make me…" she whispered hoarsely. Darren felt _his_ blood drop a few degrees. "Don't shoot— _Aunt Claire_ —Please!"

With a gasp, she awoke abruptly, dazed eyes darted to collect the intel and figure out where she was. With a slight lift of her jaw, she broke skin contact to lock eyes with her dad.

"Jesus H. Christ, how many times have I told you we've _enacted_ a peace treaty! You _gotta_ stop trying to scare me into grey hairs!"

She panted in response.

"We've got thirty minutes more of hot water, then I'm cocooning you in every damn sweater I have in this house, so help me god you might even be grounded for this bullshit!"

"…'s he… 's he ok?!"

"No, he's _not_. He's _traumatized_ …"

Venus grabbed his collar with a surprising amount of strength given her state, "Did Claire…?"

His face softened, "No. He's _here_ , oh god, did she threaten him too?"

Venus nodded, her eyes watering, "Daddy…I… I _hit_ her… 'm so… so _sorry_ …!"

He blinked, baffled.

"…I hit Jenna, I'm _sorry_ …" she tried again, the crack in her voice dispelled more and more as she spoke.

His body tightened, "No you damn well are _not_. She's had it coming for _years_. You hear me?!"

Again she nodded, crying softly, Darren pulled her tighter into him, almost trying to fuse them skin to skin, "What the hell happened, I need a status report."

"Claire had a gun, she was at the spot you marked on the map… she ambushed me and Jenna caught up… I… I couldn't fight two on one, not with her armed and far away and my side… I… I hit her in the head with a rock, but then I fell anyways… and it was… was…" She sobbed, the terror of the fall engulfing her momentarily.

"Shh, shh, it's over and done…" He soothed, rubbing her back and neck, subconsciously searching for additional injuries.

"She said they were after Jonny next… that they had something _special_ planned… I think it's something _especially awful_ …I don't think Claire was supposed to try to kill me… I think she was supposed to divert us from something…"

"Someone. She was there to divert you from _someone_."

"…But… she… she had a gun and I couldn't _run_ anymore… I… I _hit_ Jenna, daddy I didn't want to, I begged her to not make me have to…"

"No." He cut her off, "Baby, let me be clear, you're telling me Claire held you and Jenna at gun point, threatened your brother by proxy, and forced you into the woods in near-nothing of clothes?!"

"N-no, Jenna was—"

" _No_. That _is_ what you just told me. Are we goddamned _crystal_?"

Worried eyes locked onto his, he was _thinking_.

"Because _that_ is clear child endangerment and a litany of felonies and _I can_ and _will_ freeze out that bitch's assets."

Venus nodded, "B-but… I _hit_ Jenna, with a rock—in the _head_ …" She pressed her face into his chest, not willing to say more.

"Claire was using her, she's weaponized her illness to give her unabridged access to money she'd never otherwise see, she doesn't care if her heir is in a vegetative _state_. It's all about how she can control her, and not anymore. That shit stops _now_."

He cut the water and grabbed a terrycloth robe for his beloved princess.

"Dry your hair, I need to make some phone calls, I'll pull you some extra-warm pajamas. De and I are going hunting and you two are to stay _put_. I'll have some friends stop in."

She nodded, "…who?"

"Dry your hair."

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Jonny sat on the edge of the couch rocking on his heels, he jumped at the sudden coarse hand ruffle his hair.

"Can we talk?"

Jonny's head snapped up to look at Darren, he gave a mute nod.

"I called your dad and told him what's happened. Race'll be _here_ in under an hour," he let that news sink in before continuing. The kid's eyes were red. "…That Arquette lady, what's your take on her?"

"…She knows something."

"Lots of people know stuff, do you _trust_ her?"

"…I think she'll tell us the _truth_ , but I wouldn't say I'd let her fix my tea."

Darren nodded at that, "I'm going to need you to convince Race not to shoot her, she'll be here in 30 minutes." His own eyebrows went up as he sent off a text. "There's a panic room in her closet. I set up a punch-code for you… it's the last four of my direct line."

Jonny nodded, still watching Darren with wonder and worry.

"Jonny, when Race gets here… I have to leave, go _hunting_. This bullshit's gotta stop. Claire's in home turf and I mean to catch her before she goes to ground… listen, I _know_ you're shook, but… but I trust your instincts—enough to leave you here looking after her. _No one_ is allowed in here that _you_ don't recognize, you dig?"

He swallowed and bobbed his head. Darren knelt in front of him, "I know that was bad, but I agree with what _she_ did, tactically speaking I'd probably have done the same."

That earned him a new emotional response, the blond whipped a strong glare at him, "Well then you'd _both_ be wrong! Numbers matter in a fight."

Darren sighed, "Yeah, and distance takes a race. Her snafu was thinking I'd make a damn treasure map for you… it wasn't her drawing them off, you couldn't have made that same run." He clapped a hand on Jonny's shoulder, "…You're a damn good kid, you know that?"

"Is it because I'm a kid she didn't trust me to have her back?" He asked flatly. "Because I'm not some _Alpha_ recruit?"

Darren laughed at that, "No, she just has trust issues. She wasn't in the shape for a fight, and I'd still give her better odds as banged up as she is over Alex—and you, well, neither of us have seen you fight, and you really oughtn't test unknown variables in do-or-dies, especially if you have a known constant."

"I'm a Quest, Darren, that's _exactly_ when we test them." On that note, Darren patted his shoulder twice and broke the contact.

"Shit, I can't convince you to go for the path of least resistance? You and Alex had cover, she did not. You might think you could've handled it _together_ , but you couldn't have. Jenna would've attacked and you know first-hand what that's like, but you _haven't_ seen her frenzy."

"But she could've _died_." Jonny let the words hold the air uncomfortably.

"…And you made sure she didn't because you _weren't_ with her…" He blew out a lengthy sigh, "Claire's dangerous, I know you know that, and I gotta leave to track her down, but in the event she comes _here_ , well, in the room next to yours in the attic there's a lock-box loaded for bear. Same code. Get what you can from Arquette, can you do that?"

Jonny nodded curtly. "Where's Venus?"

"Under every warm object I have in this house in her room. The kid gloves came off tonight, that's for sure. Once you get any workable info out of Arquette, can you keep an eye on your sister?"

"You don't even have to _ask_ that." Jonny shook his head, almost incensed by the suggestion. "So what does _hunting_ mean? Checking local hotels?"

Darren let out a dark laugh, "That bitch isn't in a gee-dee hotel, and I'm about to dragnet the tri-state area to prove it, her assets are locked, and I've sent an APB on an armed suspect of several felonies including how she had a child hostage. They're motivated tonight. If she has any ounce of decency left in that husk of a mother's form, she may even slither to a hospital, and that's where I'm going to check personally."

"A hospital…?"

Darren smirked, "Yeah, Jenna may be out of commission right now, and that'd be quite a favor."

Both men looked up at the sound of a cheery door-chime as it echoed through the bottom floor.

Darren stood from his kneel and approached the door, he drew his Sig Sauer and looked at a digital display that was tucked behind an innocuous photo on the wall. Alex leaned in close, his face fishbowled in the camera before leaning back to show Arquette behind him.

"Girl scouts. We've got some cookies for you, mister." He said levelly as the door unlocked and cracked open. Alex pushed Arquette through the opening. "Is she okay?"

"…She'll get there. Any sightings?"

Alex shook his head, "We found where Claire ditched the car. I'm going to see if I can find any digital footprints to track. Are you sure Jonny can handle her alone?"

Darren let out a laugh, "Don't get cheeky, I'm in a mood. Now get outta here, I'm out of candy."

Alex smiled as he obliged in a hurried skip and a run back toward the car at the end of the block. Darren gave a subtle jut of his jaw to the driver, thankful Mark was able to get to the boys so quickly. Darren re-closed the door and locked it.

"Dr. Arquette, I presume." He gestured her to the living room. "We have a few minutes, so can you tell me whatever it is you think I need to hear in ten minutes?"

Arquette nodded, "Yes. Gaia has come to collect, and I have come as an avenging wolf to keel them all."

He let out a long whistle, "Lofty ambition, nice, how can I help?"

The petite brunette smiled sadly, "I am a dead woman, you must know thees by now. The one who stayed with me, he knows much of what I speak of. Gaia ees after Intelligence One operators and affiliates. Their intent is anything but noble. They also want talented children, they make them into child soldiers—such an awful thing."

Darren measured her pupillary reaction, he didn't sense any dishonesty or even sarcasm in her comment which meant she still didn't know about Alpha, that was a plus. "And why would they be after my daughter and Jonny here?"

"Because they are _very_ exceptional children. I did not know of your daughter, she looked like an operator of theirs I had previously identified and regretfully I scared her away in my ignorance. How ees she? For you are here, I know thees to mean you have her back."

"I do. She's resting. She can hold her own in a fight with a devil."

"Ah, but there were two tonight."

"And she held it less well because of that." Darren said unimpressed. "But I can promise you, she's wolf enough to avenge herself and I don't think _she's_ heard you're not on the list of people to shoot on sight." He crossed his arms to emphasize his own point.

"Yes, thees I understand quite well." She looked at Jonny, "But as he has not shot me, I have been deprioritized on thees list clearly. I know of several hubs of theirs. Transfer stations maybe. There were wasps there at the ones I have visited, they are there no more though."

"…Because they bugged out?" Darren's eyes narrowed.

"Because I keeled them. It was a mercy to them, they were already gone, consumed to their shell."

Darren exhaled a shaky breath, "Is that your euphemism for murdering kids?" He shook his head, "…What about the adults?"

She smiled, "I did not say they were the children. They were traitors, thees you also know. What you seem not to know ees that I am an asset to you."

"No, I figured that out already lady, but you also stirred up a shit-storm, when exactly did you wipe out that hive?"

She smiled darkly, "In August the first one. In September you beat me to another. Thees week I visited another, and soon I shall visit more."

"You wouldn't happen to be willing to share those locations, would you?"

"…With the head of Intelligence One's little brother? And what do you do?" She smiled suggestively.

"Shoot goddamned terrorists who threaten me, for one." He clicked the safety off his pistol.

"You know I am no such thing. I am a wolf." She licked her lips, "Your children spoke of the Pied Piper, that he did not target them to acquire says you yourself are far more dangerous to trifle with than he ees willing to risk. I like these odds. What do you know of thees Pied Piper?"

"That Allen'll kill you if you run into him. You can't survive _him_. Hell, I don't know how you survived 2 raids, aren't you some bench scientist?"

"Ah, but ees not a mouse the perfect one to send through the maze?" She waved her hand a little, "I blend een, they do not notice me, and then I get the information I need and then remove the obstacles I have seen."

"Yeah, and that trick isn't going to—no. You know what, sure, you're an avenging wolf. You know you're going to die though don't you?"

She nodded, "I am already dead, and once I have collected my sweet Giselle, I can happily let that catch up to me."

Darren blinked heavily, he could empathize. "…Do you know _where_ the Pied Piper is? Or your Giselle for that matter?"

"No, but I know they are together. She has been his latest poppet."

Darren hoped to hell he didn't flinch when she'd said that. He was surprised when Jonny stepped between them though. Sure the kid had been listening in to everything like an absorbent sponge, but that he wanted to take active steps in the interview was not something he'd expected.

"And what happened to the poppet before?" He crossed his arms over his own hips loosely.

"…I know of but two others. One ees een Argentina and I know not of her personally but heard rumors she will fulfill his dreams of power. The other ees who stole my daughter away."

"What makes them poppets?" He asked, not up for disagreeing with the French woman but knowing she was empirically wrong.

"He has an appetite that ees known."

Jonny blanched, Darren put a hand on his shoulder. "Go back to the couch. Does he still love that other poppet that's floating around _here_?"

The woman laughed, "He does not know the feeling love. He does show her affection, of sorts, thees I have seen. He ees fiercely protective of thees one, she ees hardly his best work though. I cannot stay here, you know thees do you not? There ees another location een the Catskills, if you believe me to be an ally, I will make myself known to you een two weeks time, and then if you want your answers, come with me."

Darren nodded, "That works for me, if you can keep alive that long."

She smiled ruefully, "The trick ees to wish for death and then he does not come."

He shirked to his left. Dr. Arquette unlocked the door and exited just as an auburn-haired woman in her late thirties pulled up the driveway in a black Civic SE. The man in the passenger seat near leapt from the car.

Darren quickly stepped between them and grabbed Race to hoist him into the house.

"What in _hell_ —you're not _letting_ her just…"

Jonny stepped up to him, "Race, leave her."

"Kiddo! Are you okay?" His large hands found Jonny's shoulders and steadied him while simultaneously studying him for injuries.

"…My leg's sore, but other than that, also no." Jonny looked suggestively to the doorway. "Can we go inside?"

Race nodded, glanced at Darren then followed the blond back into the living room. The agent who'd drove Race followed them in.

"Damn, De, took you long enough." Darren jibed, "Did you only cost me $500 in speeding tickets?"

"His badge is a way better hall pass than I'd thought. I'd almost think I made the wrong choice in agencies."

"You know her?" Race asked looking between the two.

"Yeah, and so do you. You remember that girl who faked being deaf for a year back in Illinois?"

"You might also remember me as the lady who took the brat off your hands, don't worry, I'm not hurt you forgot all about _me_ , Snow."

His jaw dropped. Thinking better of it, he knew this was not the time to have a reunion, Darren was locking up the house and trudging up the stairs to the attic while De sprawled on the couch, she eyed the blond boy at the far end of it.

"Shit, he _does_ look like your little monster." She called up the stairs.

"Play _nice_." He reminded in a booming voice.

She turned to look him up and down in measurement, she locked eyes on his clutched hands after a long moment, his knuckles were white. "You know how the brat is?"

Damned if his fists didn't clench tighter, her eyebrow arched.

"She isn't a brat." Jonny said in a low, controlled voice.

De's not-quite infectious laughter, a cackle really, filled the open living room. "Oh, she is alright, and a particularly spoilt one to boot, Darren who cleared her to do something so stupid? She's not even off medical restrictions and you let her go running around—I swear to shit one of these days you have to just introduce her to the word _no_."

As Darren lugged down a duffel bag he shot his partner a glare, "Can it. She's sleeping it off. Jonny, you mind heading up there and keeping her _company_?"

"Sure." He said as he suppressed his own radiating anger. His limp was less pronounced, but Darren knew when someone was intentionally downplaying an injury, he locked eyes with Race as if to convey that little message too.

Once he was sure the kid was out of earshot he slapped De in the back of shoulder. "Damn it, _behave_."

De rolled her eyes as she grabbed the duffel bag and pulled out some of the clips and corresponding ammo to load them up.

"Arquette was giving us intel on Gaia, she's not _with_ them, she's against them. They grabbed her kid and by all accounts she was _trying_ to prevent them from grabbing Jonny but she jumped the shark on that last one and now they're in a tizzy and making some bold moves. Of which, Claire's bragging about something particularly ugly planned for Jonny—whether those were smoke-rings to needle my daughter or her running her fucking mouth, well, I'll be sure to ask her when I see her."

Race's body went taut, "Claire threatened _Jonny_?"

"…By proxy. Venus is half-way delirious though, so I can't really ask her more right now. Fuck!" Darren punched the coffee table causing several bullets to pop off the table then slap back down.

"How bad was she hurt?" The white-haired bodyguard asked carefully. He recognized that pained look.

"Psychologically or physically?" He grabbed another clip and started to load it with 9mm ammo, happy for something to do with idle hands.

"Physical for starts," Race offered.

"She ran for about 3 miles and I haven't even gotten all the stage makeup off her but she looked banged up pretty good. She was soaking wet and sitting out in the frigid cold after being out there for _hours_ before. I know she doesn't get cold but even _that's_ a bit much…" He swallowed thickly, "…and Claire _shot at her_ , she fell down a steep incline and that bitch _shot at her_. I'm gonna fucking kill her."

"Get in line, asshole." De said in smug satisfaction, "I've hated that bitch since we were kids and I'm a better shot."

"You weren't ever a kid." Darren quipped, "You were born a 400 year old hag."

De pulled out a bowing knife and stabbed it into Darren's coffee table.

"Oh real mature!"

"Both of you, _focus_. Darren, what happened to Jonny?" Race snapped, pissed at how laisser-faire they were being about it all.

"He's been limping since I picked him up, I'd wager they made a run at one point and his leg couldn't deal with it. He's been trying to lick that wound, but Venus bailed because she knew she'd draw the fire and that he sure as hell couldn't have run for help."

Race palmed his forehead, "Fur on a catfish…"

"On that lovely note, thanks for babysitting while we step out, I don't expect we'll be back all too soon…" Darren casually looked at the time, it was just before midnight, "…If trouble arises, give us a call, Mark and Johan aren't too far and they'll bring the fire if need be."

"How old are they?" He quipped.

Darren rolled his eyes, "Johan's 27, and Mark's stuck in the 80s, but I don't know how old he actually is, he probably doesn't know, either. I told Jonny about the panic room in Venus's walk-in closet, and I'll leave the Z3 here, normally she'd purr like a kitten up to 140, but I probably trashed her transmission on the drive back—but she'll make it over 120 if you beg." He tossed his keys to Race. He hoisted up the duffel bag. "I also left a nice cache of similar quality up in the walk-in attic. The rifles are loaded, and there's magazines loaded for each caliber but you'd have to clip them in."

"Such a hospitable host…" Race deadpanned.

"And a hunting we shall go…" De said with a smirk. Darren and she walked to the front door, Race followed behind to hit the lock.

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Jonny curled against Venus's back, hugging her over the covers as she shivered, "Sis, what's wrong? Are you still _cold_?"

He could feel her shake her head from under the layers of blankets and heard the muffled sound of what he presumed was her crying.

"What's wrong then?"

She merely shook her head again as she pulled the blankets over her even tighter.

"Kiddo? You up here?" Race tapped gently on the bedroom door, he saw the two teens, one of which wrapped in at least four blankets, the other pressed to her back keeping the blankets from shifting too much. Jonny turned toward the older man, his eyes were red from his own emotional escapades.

Race waved him over, Jonny whispered something to Venus before untangling himself and tucked in the fabric a little tighter around her before he stepped toward Race, looking over his shoulder as he did.

In a tug, Race pulled Jonny into a strong hug, he could feel the tension in the kid that he'd been trying desperately to mask as it poured out of him; Jonny hugged Race back tightly, shaking.

"You're _both_ okay." Race said firmly to reiterate it for the blond.

"Neither of us are okay." Jonny said in a clearly pained voice, "She's been crying non-stop and won't say why."

Race nodded, "It's a tall order, that's for certain."

Jonny laughed darkly, "Well, I've seen Darren mad now, that looks _pretty_ homicidal."

Probably not the best reaction precisely, Race chuckled, "He's always been considered a pretty boy." Despite himself, Jonny smiled at the ill-timed joke.

"I still think my dad's 'kill you' look is more honed."

"It probably is. Darren usually likes to keep things as _surprises_." He pulled back from the hug to look Jonny in the eye. "Are you _physically_ okay?"

With a strong nod, Jonny diverted his eyes, "Seeing her that _still_ … it was awful."

"I know." Race patted his hair, "Let me check on her and see if I can calm her any."

"…She's scared and _hurt_ , I don't think it ever dawned on her that _Claire_ wanted her dead."

"Tunnel vision can get anyone, remember that."

Jonny chewed on his lip, "Race, I don't know that lady, but she's _horrible_ , she used _me_ to manipulate her—just the _threat_ to me…"

Race cocked his head, "She's always been manipulative, I'm not so sure Darren even knows _just_ how much."

"Oh, I think he's read up _now_."

Race scoffed, "Maybe. Kiddo, can you make up some cocoa for both of you and come right back up?"

Jonny nodded, "I'll be five minutes."

"Alright, I'm going in."

The older man knelt at eye level to Venus, "Hey, how're you feeling?"

Venus poked her head out slightly from the blankets just enough to glare red-rimmed at Race. He put Mr. Cottontail in her reach and was satisfied to see her quickly cocoon the stuffed rabbit under several layers of blankets in a pounce.

"…Thanks Roger…"

He gave her a patient smile, damned only person to refuse to use his nickname. "De sends her regards."

"Were they to 'get shot'?" Venus frowned.

"Not even close, then she'd _really_ have to babysit."

He could see her trying to suppress a smile.

"What has you upset?" He asked softly.

She tucked further under the blankets to evade scrutiny, "…Daddy's _mad_. I hurt Jenna so Uncle Phil'll be _mad too_ …" a sob broke out, "What if he sends me away?"

Race eyed the room, found the family photo from Universal Studios Tokyo in matchy-match clothes and pulled it to her bed.

"That is _not_ the face of an unhappy dad, Venus. You're his _world_."

Her lips quivered, "Then why's he _mad_ …"

"That someone _hurt you_? Oh honey, you know exactly why he was _mad_ , he just wasn't mad at _you_."

Venus mumbled, "Honey, sugar, _aspartame_ …"

Race smiled, word association wasn't a typical coping mechanism, though he was glad it was helping her calm down, he wondered if humor was another one of her go-tos. He eyed the door, "What do you call a fake noodle?" He waited a moment, "An impasta."

Worried blue eyes locked onto his.

"You hear about that new restaurant on the moon?" He was silently relieved to see more of her face poking out again.

"…The space bar?" Her voice lilted as she asked.

Race shook his head, "Great food, no atmosphere though."

"Where'd Jonny go?" She asked, her face now outside of the covers as she looked around.

"I made cocoa, I didn't see any marshmallows though." He called from the door.

With a weak smile she replied, "That's courtesy of your dad's anti-sugar manifesto."

"Anti-High Fructose Corn Syrup Manifesto, thank you very much." Jonny corrected, glad to see her smile strengthen at that.

"He hid them with all the other good stuff in the bar." Venus informed, "Why he thinks _I_ won't snoop baffles me."

"Good to know." Jonny smiled back.

"What? That I'm a snoop or that dad's an idealist?"

He put the cocoa on the nightstand. "I don't think I made it the same way you do, so be gentle on me, I didn't go to culinary school."

A pallid hand fished free from the covers and pulled the beverage nearer. Race helped her right herself while keeping the covers around her, his hand casually grazed her arm, surprised how icy she still felt.

Venus took a sip then gagged, crushing her brother before laughing. "No, it's fine, I'm just fucking with you a little…"

Race gave her a withered look, "Language please."

"Which do you prefer? I'm proficient in profanities in any of the ones I know." She frowned, "…You're as much of a boy-scout as Uncle Phil, aren't you?" Her eyes watered as she thought about her uncle.

Race took the cup and switched it out for Mr. Cottontail. "None of that, now. Phil's no fool, if you hit her it was out of _necessity_ , you kids are cut from the same altruistic cloth and don't know how to be mean for the sake of it. Phil _knows_ that."

"Dad said I shouldn't _feel sorry_."

Race patted her head, "I thought both of you were pretty against survivor's guilt."

She blinked, not sure what to say to that.

"Do you feel warm enough?"

She shook her head slightly from underneath her blanket burrito. Jonny slid back onto the bed and curled a protective arm across her stomach, "You're still _frozen_."

She snuggled closer to him, closing her eyes as she harvested his body heat shamelessly.

"Why don't you two settle down and try to rest? I'll be downstairs keeping guard."

"Yes sir." Jonny replied smoothly.

Venus frowned at him but nodded. "Is anyone else here…?"

"No, just us and the place is on lock-down."

"…Did dad say when he'd be back?" She asked quietly, fading fast.

"When he's done." Race shrugged. Venus nodded, closed her eyes and was snoring softly in under five minutes.

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Jonny extracted himself from the bedroom after a few hours and spotted Race, still awake and watching the security footage cycle through.

"…Race, do you think dad's still up…?"

Race pulled his cell phone out, "I'm sure he is. Did you want to call him and talk?"

Jonny nodded, catching the tossed phone.

"Good, I'm sure he's worried sick." The display on the phone said it was just after 3 AM, he was surprised it answered just after the first ring, but given the plethora of worst-case scenarios his dad was probably running through, he shouldn't have been.

"Dad…?"

"Jonny, are you alright son?" His voice was reassuring, a stoic calm.

"…Sorry it's so _late_ …" he imagined the calm smile on the other end, the same patient look he'd gotten when he'd wake up with nightmares as a kid too.

"It's alright." The words hung like a benediction.

Jonny swallowed heavily and nodded, "…is it?" His voice felt small and tinny even in his own ears.

"It will be soon. I heard about _it_ , did you want to talk through it or would that make it harder to sleep?"

"…I… know you _said_ it could be a long weekend but… but I really miss _home_ right now."

"How so?" Benton coaxed, wondering if he missed the perceived safety of familiar ground.

"I wish you were here. I'd feel better if you were…" Jonny tried to articulate, failing miserably in his own pursuit to make sense.

Benton's breath caught, "How… were her friends? Ian and Alex was it?" He deflected, the feeling was perfectly mutual.

"They're funny I guess. Alex is really… well, maybe not nice or sweet but _warm_? He's kind hearted, super friendly, and empathetic, like TK and Hadji times 10… and Ian's a total goof-ball, a practical joker and fiercely protective."

"Protective?"

"Oh, and jealous…" Jonny laughed as he remembered Friday, "He was glaring daggers when Venus hugged me…"

"I take it she's not _usually_ a hugger?"

"Not particularly, no." Jonny looked down, "…Dad, I have a really bad feeling that something is going to _happen_ …" His breath caught in his own throat. He didn't want to say he was scared, _terrified_ if he were honest, "Everything feels… _wrong_."

"Son, Race is with you. He'll keep you safe. And I'll be there in a few hours. Can you hold on a little longer?"

The teen nodded, "…mhmm, promise you'll be careful?"

Benton laughed, "Son, I promise you, I'm not the one who needs to be careful right now. If any of those cretins from Gaia were foolish enough to approach me right this moment…" He smiled through the breath, hoping to high heaven he wasn't startling his son with such thoughts, "…THEY'D be the ones in mortal danger."

Jonny laughed weakly, "Yeah?" he could hear his dad's stoic anger, it was oddly comforting when it wasn't directed at him. He let out a lengthy yawn, "What time do you think you'll be in?"

"My flight plan will have me on the ground at 9, and by 10 I should be _there_. You should try to get some rest, you sound tired."

Jonny nodded again, "Okay… good night day. I… I love you."

"I love you too, son, good night."

Jonny handed Race the phone and headed back up the stairs slowly.

-Chapter 3 JQ-

Parked on the couch, Race listened to the key slide and the doorknob give at the front door. He silently clicked the safety off, ready to rock and roll if needed, but quickly reholstered it at the sight of Darren on the wrong side of 6 AM.

The younger man gave a short wave curved into a half-salute. With an acknowledging nod, Race stood and approached.

"That stubble fills in _fast_ on you."

Darren rubbed his two-day beard, annoyed. "Damn id, I'll hafta _shave_ when I ged up… where're the kids?" His tongue darted over his canine tooth.

Race thought he looked squirrelly, the way he was swaying he almost looked drunk, sans the bags under his eyes. "Still asleep, how was hunting?"

"Gee-Dee tirin', but suc'ssful." He slurred through.

"Successful? How so, were they—"

"Yeah. S'cssful. Dohn mine me, but I'm tired 'n I plan on takin' a power nap after I check on my girl…"

"Darren, maybe sleep it off, first?" He suggested only to be answered with a glare.

"Nah, Snow. _My_ house, _my_ kid—she knows w't I'm like burnt at both ends…"

Race rolled his eyes slightly, "And Jonny's with her and doesn't."

"I'm not gonna drop off if I dohn' check on her firs—t. I'll be sure nadda wake _him_ …"

The older of the pair nodded at that, "Why _are_ you so spent anyway? I'd think you'd be more accustomed to all-nighters."

"Two inna row on a month thad's been anythin' but restful…? Gee golly I wonder. What can I say, night terrors keep ya on yer toes…"

"She's been having night terrors? At 14?"

Darren flipped him off.

"Alright, I give—go check on her and get some _sleep_."

"Well _thank ya_ fer yer _hospitality._ "

Race rolled his eyes at the younger man, "You want coffee, _first_?"

"No, I want sleep. Dohn _touch_ my coffee 'r let _her_ when she gets up… I dohn need _piss water_ grade coffee right now n' I'm inna bit of a _mood_."

"I couldn't tell." He said in a casually cross manner, still measuring the younger man, "Are you going to say who's _blood_ that is?"

"Fuggin' _morning people_ …" he bristled, " _Not_ before that power nap." He headed to the stairs, weaving his way up them.

Race shook his head, that cocky ass never changed, he wondered how Phil was—what _he_ knew, and what he'd be willing to share, though he doubted it would be very much at all. He waited until Darren was up the stairs before following behind, more for Jonny's sake than anything else.

True to his word, even punch-drunk with sleep deprivation, he'd been deceptively quiet, rounded the queen-sized bed with Jonny holding the covers around Venus, still out cold.

Darren kneeled to Venus's eye-level and tapped her shoulder from over the covers then stroked her exposed cheek.

Her eyes opened in slits, with a whine, "'s _cold_ …"

Darren licked his canine tooth and gave a sweet, playful smile, "Sorry yer majesty." He pulled his hand back and blew some heat into them, rubbing them warmer. He stroked her cheek again to keep her focus off sleep, "C'mere, okay?"

"Mm… fine…" she turned toward Jonny, mumbling something about needing to get up. He rolled to his other side, freeing her of his hold on the covers, he, himself staying atop them.

Darren offered her a steadying hand which she accepted.

"Study?" He nodded. "W'time's it?"

"About 7…"

She reached for his stubble, "You have a _beard_ …"

He dodged, not needing her to get into the blood. "Yeah, yeah, I'll shave when I wake up later."

Venus frowned, "You're exhausted…"

"I _am_." He agreed, "But I also need to check on ya, take the couch." He nodded her toward it. "How do ya feel?"

" _Groggy_ , w'happened?" She frumped.

"Well some uh us got assigned _clean-up_ duty—" He watched her turn on a full pout. "Oi, I didn't mean it like _that_ …" he tried, "I'm exhausted, r'member? I'm not _mad_ , I'm _short_ 'n _tired_ …"

Her face softened to one of worry instead. He took her hands in his, cupping them. "N I'm _too_ tired to get into _that_ … but I'm back… lemme make sure you're okay so I can get in a solid 4."

"…Okay…"

"Baby, close yer eyes and tell me what ya feel n' where. Be specific, got it?"

"…I think so." She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes interlocking from top and bottom rows. He gently rubbed the palmer tip of her left pinky.

"Light touch, left pinky."

He moved to a firm touch at her right pointer on the nail, "Normal contact, right hand."

He traced his thumbs over her wrists. "Light touch, my wrists… Are you done poking me yet?"

"Not jus' yet." He smiled, ruffled her hair then moved his hand to her foot, he wiggled her fourth toe on her right foot.

"Light touch, right foot…" He pressed into the arch of the same foot, "Right sole."

He touched her big toe on her right foot with light pressure.

"Don't you _dare_ start tickling me, daddy, I'm not in the mood for you to tease me!"

He smiled patiently, "I know, I know…" His hand went to her left foot with medium pressure.

"Dad! I said _stop_!" She snapped her eyes open to glare into him.

"What? What'd I do?" He asked unnerved.

"Now you're tickling my _left_ foot!"

He glanced at her foot, "Yeah? Where?" His voice lilted playfully to mask his concern.

"My toes." She crossed her arms, annoyed.

He moved his hand to her ankle, fingers searching for a pulse.

" _QUIT IT_!" She made to stand, Darren pulled her leg to kibosh it.

" _Humor me_." He said sharply. The focus in her eyes intensified as she locked onto his beard, registering for the first time that there was blood caking it.

"Daddy… who's _blood_ is that?!"

"None of _ours_." Darren shot impatiently, he could barely feel a pulse there.

"Who's else _could_ it be if not _one of ours_?! Claire and Jenna _are_ ours—"

" _No_ Claire is _not_!" He squeezed her foot just thinking about that cunt. Venus flinched visibly.

"Ow!" She pulled her leg toward herself though he didn't let go of it, "Stop acting scary! You look like _Blue Beard_!"

"Well the bitch shouldn't'uh looked through the _key hole_." He shot back heatedly, instantly regretting it as he saw Venus's eyes water.

"You're _hurting_ me…" she whispered in a low voice.

He loosened his grip, touched the top of her foot, "I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

"…It feels like pins and needles." She frowned.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed, "Your circulation's being shitty… I'm gonna try ta fix that but it's _not_ gonna be pleasant."

Venus frowned as he pressed his thumbs hard into the fleshy meat around her ankle.

She winced sharply and pulled a couch pillow to her chest to keep from yelping audibly. His thumb dug hard into her calf to work on venous return. With similar tactics, he pressed down the sides of her ankle and her arch, rubbing the toes vigorously, he felt as miserable as she looked.

"Were you sleeping on _that_ side the whole time?"

"…I don't know."

He sighed, touched her heel gently then the tip of her toenails, "How's _that_ feel?"

" _Sore_." She fumed.

"—Focus." He said dully.

"I _am_ focused, it's _sore_." She pulled her knees to her chest to put a halt on his exercise, "It's tender, sore but _not_ pins and needles." His sad eyes landed on hers. "Who's _blood_ is it?! Is _De_ —"

" _We're_ fine."

Her face faltered into muted shock, "…It's Jenna's, isn't it?" she said in sudden horror, "Claire _didn't_ take her in—?"

He pulled her into a hug, careful to keep her face away from the blood by planting her cheek firmly into his chest. "I'm _tired_ … don't make me do this _now_."

"Is she? –Uncle Phil…?" She asked pointed half-questions, each more injurious than the last. He squeezed her hard and let out his own anguished noise.

"I _can't_ think about my brother right now." He pleaded, the complexity of it all too overwhelming on raw nerves.

"Did I _kill_ her?" Her voice squeaked.

"N-no, baby, you didn't. Jenna's not…" his voice hitched, "It's _complicated_ , but she's not dead. She's as alright as she ever is… are _you_ okay? You couldn't give me a proper _status report_ , I… oh god, I thought something _awful_ had…" he cradled her, she felt fat tears land on the top of her head, a hand firmly pressed her cheek into his bounding heart.

"—Breathe in deep, sweetie, you're hyperventilating on me…" he said after a long moment trying to steady his own nerves. She wrapped her arms around his chest, nails clawing into the grips to refuse the _polite_ suggestion. Her head was swimming yet she felt like she was the one drowning. "Lemme jus' hold ya for a while, princess… keep an _eye_ on ya…" he recited their typical magic words for when both were too shaken to be particularly distant as he snagged a throw-blanket to wrap her in, all too aware of just how cold she'd been only a few hours ago.

Venus curled to her side so she could maneuver into her snug position against his clavicle, his arm, and the arm of the couch which offered her an iota of lumbar support. Her knees draped over his crossed leg as her arms curled to his chest, gripping the blanket and the fabric of his shirt to pin it around her as her tight breaths fell into tired wisps as she fell into the dark.

Darren rocked them in anxious, short strides as his one extended leg bounced, falling asleep to a staccato rhythm, smelling her hair, feeling her too-faint warmth, or what had returned of it as he caved to his body's demands for rest.

Never one to admit his own demons, or nightmares, Darren relived a feedback loop from hell of the last night.

-TBC in Chapter 4-


	4. Chapter 4

FrequencyChapter 4, by Vanessa S. Quest

With one too many renditions of dreaming about finding his niece bleeding from the head, highly disoriented and unsure of whom _she_ even was, the mental gunfire subsided.

Piss-water coffee and a gourmand breakfast from the hang-over gods visited him even though he was only sleep deprived, not addled with bourbon withdrawal. Still none-too-far away were the thoughts of De out prowling alone while he waited at Jenna's bedside for Phil to drive up from NYC to get to _his_ injured kid, Darren himself sulking that he couldn't be putting the nails in the coffin of the woman who'd so cruelly hurt his _own_ at bare minimum, but even worse, unable to dote on Venus instead.

The realization that he was losing out on time coddling her, particularly with how vulnerable she'd seemed, made him eye his surroundings.

He was in the study, there were sounds of life coming from presumably water-buffaloes moving around downstairs. He wondered how much of that was his own daughter, and how much of that was some unholy combination of Quests and Bannons. Shit, it might have even been Alex and Ian at this point, he was _certain_ they'd get called in; Jonny only had so many points of contact in the area.

Darren let out a low groan, noon or not, he was truly thankful Race had been in NYC last night, as his sluggish consciousness brought him back to the room—and more troublesome, Race's presence.

"Watching me sleep now? That's not creepy at all."

"Oh stow it, I brought up that breakfast platter so Venus wouldn't try the stairs. She's limping… don't take this the wrong way, but she acts like an animal—completely oblivious to her own limitations while everyone else just stares."

"…Wrong way? She'd agree with you. Limping though? Damn." He took up the coffee.

"She made it, it looked… thin, but she made me swear to bring up the whole thing or she'd do it herself. I could make you a fresh pot."

"No, you don't, if I don't drink _that_ , nah, I don't want her to cry any more than she's already been. She's sensitive that way." He saw Race's eyebrow raise but nod accordingly. Apparently he'd also been subjected to a few 'father's day/birthday breakfasts in bed.' "What time is it?"

"A little before noon, Benton's here, he's downstairs keeping an eye on the kids."

"Yeah? How's Jonny?" He said ever more awake, despite the depressingly bad cup of sludge, how it was water-thin on the top and literally sludge at the bottom was a mystery to him, and probably physicists.

"He's shaken up. Darren, what happened last night? I need to know what threats are still in the works."

Darren nodded, "Yeah, I know you do. Jenna's in the hospital, she was off her meds since Claire checked her out— for more than a _month_ , do you know just how fucked up of a thing that is to do to a person with a schizoid personality disorder?! She couldn't tell if I was her dad or her uncle while I was with her waiting for Phil to get there… Fucking 2 _hours_."

Race didn't let his eyes traverse from Darren's once he had him honed in.

"…De found Claire, she's been arrested, and frankly it's a small miracle De didn't 'also' get arrested just so she could do her in with a shiv, herself." That got the brown eyes to grow, "Claire was arrested for child endangerment, child abuse, and kidnapping. None of which will stick, but it's enough to get Phil an emergency petition for sole custody and keep _her_ in there until _at least_ Monday."

"Why won't it stick?" Race asked, unsure.

Darren shrugged, "Venus can't go to _court_ , I _won't_ risk it. And if they try to make me, I'll spirit her away _myself_. You still don't get it, do you? She _has_ to stay off the radar."

"…But she was wearing Jonny's watch. You _know_ that records, don't you?"

"…What?" He blinked daftly, "…Are you fucking kidding me?"

Race gave him a souring look, "No, I'm not. Once a distress signal is set, it automatically records audio and in some cases visual, now, if the camera somehow was occluded that wouldn't be of any use, but the audio should be."

Darren smiled unevenly, "That's… the best news I've had since 7 this morning. You said Benton's here—is Venus still asleep?"

"No, she's been up since 8 when Jonny got up and went looking for her. She made your breakfast herself a few minutes ago."

"Who else is here?"

"Two boys, I think Jonny said they're Alex and Ian? A scrawny brunette, and a Chinese kid older than Hadji."

"Yeah, that's Alex and Ian, alright. Has Phil made it here yet?"

"No, was he expected?"

Darren scoffed, "Of course that busy-body'll show up. Alright, let me freshen up," he ran a hand down his scruff and frowned as he felt the dried blood and groaned, "She saw that, didn't she?"

Race nodded glibly, "Blue beard, huh?"

Darren laughed, "Fuck, I need to soundproof this room better, she really wasn't kidding about that." The asking look in Race's eyes was almost tempting, almost, "I'll be downstairs in 20 minutes. Tell her she needs to stop trying to kill me and give me grey hairs."

"Tell her yourself." Race said in an even keel. "Where's Arquette? And what about the rest of the Gaia players?"

Darren's eyes widened before narrowing, "That I don't know. Not here, or I'd think they'd have made a siege and by your accounts, last night was quiet."

There was a loud chirping sound as Darren's cellphone buzzed half-way across the side table. He rolled his eyes and picked it up, looked at the number, then ignored it.

"…You going to answer that?"

"Yeah, when I'm supposed to..." Darren gave Race a dirty look, "Why are you pissed me, Snow?"

Race gave him a tempered look but didn't elaborate. Darren's phone rang again, he answered on the third go.

"What's going down?" Darren kept his eyes on Race while he actively listened to the phone. "…You're fucking serious?! …No, yeah I know you don't have a sense of humor—that's why I—no, it does… wait—what do you _mean_ no one else has… oh FUCK. Fine. FINE, okay—I'm on it." He hung up, pissed.

"Well?"

Darren's face was muted, "…I have to call Phil, Claire's dead."

Race's eyes went wide, "How?"

"…She had a heart attack." He scowled, his own hands coming to his mouth, "…I _have_ to call my brother, he can't just hear about that from anyone."

"A _heart attack_?"

Darren nodded, "Yeah, except her pupils were blown out, too. This is bad."

"Did they check for atropine?" Race asked in a deathly serious murmur.

"Not yet, but it _does_ sound like someone drank the kool aid after a fucking oops, doesn't it?"

"And you _don't_ know where Arquette is?"

-Chapter 4 JQ-

Inside the spacious kitchen, surrounded by a mound of vegetables, several knives, and a thick chopping board, Venus tugged her apron strings to synch them tight around her waist.

Alex leaned into the counter adjacent to her, facing her instead of the pile of produce.

"What else do you need?" He beamed, busying himself to keep in her presence.

"…The curry blocks, a 2-gallon pot and lid, a 1-gallon pot and lid, the rice, and two cans coconut milk."

Alex nodded as he shoved off and made quick work pulling the reagents. "So talk me through it…"

She frowned at him, her knife made a hard sound as it pierced through the bamboo cutting board and the particularly thick potato she'd been chopping.

"…I need more information, first, Alex. You said Arquette was _there_ , she's _against_ Gaia, isn't she?"

Alex nodded, "She is, but her daughter isn't. Her kid's in the snare and she's pretty sure she's too far gone. I don't know if I agree with that though."

Venus's wet eyes drifted toward his then went back to chopping with high speed.

"We don't know how he does it, Venus. You only _think_ we do."

"Torture is a pretty effective method, and he had it pretty developed… plus there's the patterns…" Venus ignored his own conclusion to support her working theory. Her eyes were watering as she took up the first onion.

Alex put a hand over hers to make her pause. "Pattern?"

She wiped at her eyes, annoyed at her own feelings, "…I _shouldn't_ have hit her…" Alex blew out a sigh, "Dad _hates_ me now, I know he has to… And Uncle Phil too…"

Alex put a hand over her wrist. "Venus, you're the only person upset about hitting Jenna. Everyone else knows she's had it coming for a _long time_."

"No she didn't! She can't _help_ what happened to her! You and I _both_ know it…"

"And does Darren?" Alex asked.

Venus frowned, "…Probably, you know he likes to see how much we can figure out on our own… but there's no way Uncle Phil _wouldn't_ have told him…"

"About Allen, too?" Alex pressed.

Venus took up the knife again, making it clear to Alex she wanted to resume chopping veggies. He released his hold on her wrist. "I think he does, nonna always sung about it in her silly operas, and it's not like dad _doesn't_ speak Italian…"

"…?" The asking look in his eyes conveyed his question more than words.

"…She'd rant about grandpa's illegitimate bastard, about all the affairs, about how he was a pig but she loved him anyway… there's no _way_ dad wouldn't know if he listened to her songs at all, and he _did_ … maybe he hasn't figured out who, but he has to know there _is_ a who." The knife thudded dully as she sliced through a deep chop then was followed by several slicking sounds as she diced the onions with precision.

"What pattern did you find then? Why do you think Allen is the Korvin bastard child?"

"…Because he was in Iran. He took dad's spot when nonna said _no_ , what grandpa saw as his golden chance to make dad man up but instead nonna wouldn't let him, so who else would he want so desperately to be able to carry on his legacy—the illegitimate son who was all _his_ … no ties to nonna's money, or influence—he could prove indirectly what grandpa craved—his own sense of value… until it went to shit in a hand basket, except… well, except he _did_ manage to survive, so the trial by fire… grandpa _had_ to have supported him. Had to have _known_ at least up to a point… and I think when he got out, he decided he had to make it on his own, anyway." Venus swiped at her eyes again. "And he wanted to prove Jenna could be like him too. He has too much of an axe with our family to _not_ have ties. But then he fucked it up, Jenna was too soft, so he tried to harden her and it went south. _Real_ south… and he changed his approach, his time frames too… he's doing this because he wants to prove he's _good enough_."

"So he's running an international terrorist organization to show he could be good at running an intelligence agency? That doesn't make sense." Alex prodded.

"…Yes it does, he's amoral, without patriotic ties, Gaia has objectives _he_ wants it to have, not what a country wants it to have… and he can steer to his own benefits…and he wants to show his is better than Intelligence One and part of that is recruiting the crème-de-la-crème, so he _had_ to target I-1 operators, but there's no recruitment options there, so he figured combine it with how they were going back when he was a teen—use kids, train them, and by time they're of age…"

"…So he _doesn't_ know about Alpha One?"

Venus frowned, "He knows. He just knows he can't pick us up easily. We're too insular. Plus, he thinks he has to _condition_ agents… we don't fit his _parenting style_." Venus scowled, "…He thinks torturing kids and molding them works, but we haven't been, and we work _better_ , it proves him _wrong_ and he doesn't like to be _wrong_."

"…Venus." Alex frowned, "Have you read your dad in yet?"

"…No. There's still too many gaps. Too many unknown players, and _now_ … now he's going to _hate_ me… _does_ hate me…"

"How can you _really_ think that? After all this time with him, it's kinda fucked up that _you_ don't trust _him_." He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her with one eye, he was taking one hell of a risk. He faltered when she let the knife clatter, wrapping her arms around herself to start bawling in earnest. Alex pulled her into a fast hug, "…Venus?"

Fast arms coiled around his back as she buried her face into his collar.

"It's… it's okay, don't cry… Venus, you trust _me_ right?" He was incredibly thankful to feel her nod into his grip, "Okay—well if you trust me, will you trust who _I_ trust?" Venus nodded again. "Then trust _me_ , he doesn't hate you. I'll prove it too, but we need to get him read in. This is getting too big for just you to handle piecing together all by your lonesome, even though you've done such a great job…"

"…You think I did a great job?" She pouted into the sleeve of his shirt.

He smiled, "Well, _yeah_ , I'm not stupid." The girl let out an unnatural laugh as she sniffled back her tears. "So please stop crying. I bet Jonny can be a lot of help too, you know? He's smart and pretty creative…plus he can run interference and has a whole different perspective to explore…"

"…Plus we don't know what Jenna was trying to tell _him_ …" Venus offered.

"And this ties in to more than just you, you've been pulling these strings together from only _one_ vantage point. Without more, we're missing too much of the picture. Can we? Can we read _him_ in too?"

Venus nodded, "Okay… we'll… we'll tell them."

Alex smiled, "That's more like it." He tapped the back of her head, lacing his fingers through her corn-silk soft hair. "I'm going to make Darren come in here and help you finish up lunch, okay? That'll give you two time to just talk…"

She frowned but nodded anyway. He pulled back from the hug to look at her, a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Good. Can you take a seat? Your leg looks like it's still _really_ sore."

"No. It's fine. I deserve it." Venus said apathetically.

He didn't want to chance her reneging, so instead of pushing her, he just shrugged, "I'll go get him. Venus, I'm _really_ glad you got out of that, but you gotta stop taking everything on by yourself. I'm your backup, you _know_ that right? I've always got your back, no matter what."

"…I do, that's why I trusted you with Jonny. I knew I _could_ count on you…"

"Yeah, well, we need to get more on page-there, then, because that didn't feel like a trust-fall." Alex relaxed as he saw her teeth peek from her up-curled lips in a thin smile.

"Oh, I trust you, but I don't do falls."

Alex unlatched from his hug completely, already knowing how spoiled he'd been by the long contact, "Yeah? You dive into danger pretty consistently though and that's about the same thing."

Venus crossed her arms and levied a dirty look at him, "Not even remotely."

He gave her an infectiously large smile before he took a step toward the door to the dining room. "Oh, it _is_."

"Not."

"Is too…" He ducked out before she called back. He bumped into Jonny as the teen tried to make it look like he _hadn't_ been eavesdropping. Alex gave him a friendly grin and spun toward the stairs, he put his finger over his mouth to signal Jonny to keep quiet. "Hey, is Darren down here yet?"

Jonny edged back toward the couch in the living room silently taking in Alex as he amicably smiled at Darren and thumbed to the kitchen door. Darren clapped a hand over Alex's tear-stained shoulder and headed in.

After a long moment, Alex turned to Jonny and in a low whisper asked, "How much did you hear?"

"That part where she laid out how there's been a conspiracy theory in my life for at least 8 years…" He said in casual shell-shock before looking at his dad.

"Well, it gets better, if she said it, she has it drafted somewhere and I bet _we_ could fill in some of those gaps, come on, I know where she'd've stashed something like that."

Jonny looked at his dad and then at Alex before following quickly behind him. He caught sight of Race before ducking into his sister's room behind Alex. He silently watched as Alex dug under her chest of drawer and retrieved a rolled-up draft paper similar in size to schematics Jonny's dad had lying around on occasion.

He helped Alex unroll the paper to look over the interconnecting pieces as drawn in.

His mouth felt dry as he saw the autopsy photos of the several men connected to her first official encounter with Gaia.

"…D… dad?! Race! C'mere!"

Alex looked at the blond teen in alarm, "Hey, wait a sec—why're you calling them in just yet—"

"Because _that_ guy…" Jonny pointed to the man that had been shot while wearing a mucho libre wrestlers mask, "…looks like the much-skinnier version of a man who kidnapped me two years ago and made my life a living hell. DAD! RACE!"

His hand went to his chest, if _he_ was out… did that mean Ali was too? Jonny sat hard on the bed, while watching the door, he saw scraps of paper under the other dresser. Race was there first and let out a low whistle at the schematic laid out before him.

"…What in tarnation is that?"

"A cluster fuck." Alex said flatly. "Maybe two or three." Alex followed Jonny's eyes to see where he was looking and got up to retrieve another file that Venus had squirreled away.

Benton spotted the brunette as he entered the purple bedroom, he made fast steps to Jonny's side upon taking in his posture, the hand clutching his chest and the files sprawled around the bed. His eyes narrowed at the sight of an all-too familiar face.

"…Race… _he_ isn't out… _is he_?" Jonny asked in mounting panic.

"Who, kiddo?" Race asked him in a cautious voice, Jonny tapped his finger on the image of _the boss_.

"…The _Pig_ …"

Benton pulled Jonny into a hug, a protective hand curling around his neck. Jonny's dominant left arm curled in parallel to his dad's back, locking on his shoulder to keep himself tightly pinned in the secure hug.

Race's eyes honed on Jonny's, "I'd be notified if that happened, Jonny. That would be a major security risk…" Race's cell phone chirped angrily, he looked at the display, "I have to take this." As Race answered the phone, he let his eyes wander over the carefully charted diagram and interconnecting lines, "Bannon here."

Benton watched in growing concern as Race's expression soured.

"When did that happen? Any leads?" He looked back to Benton, drew out his pistol and confirmed he had a chamber in the round. "…Keep me posted."

The unnatural shiver that ran through Jonny said he had the same bad feeling his dad did.

"…It was about _him_ wasn't it?" Jonny swallowed back, "How long has he been _missing_?"

"His last sighting was roll-call last night, he'd have a 14 hour head start at most." Race said in a steely calm.

"So he's probably already _in_ the area?" Jonny frowned. Last year he remembered how Race had told him about the decision to put him up at Riker's Island, a deal that had been sealed and sanctioned, that was thrown in Phil Korvin's face personally, as the man had been adamant the man rot in that shit-hole prison in _Alabama_ , but somehow he'd made a pitch to a more sympathetic group and they bypassed what was best for both the victims and the departments responsible for their continued protection.

"…There's more bad news." Race said more to Benton, but to the boys as well, "Claire's dead, and I can't say Phil will be much help to us as soon as he finds that out."

Race looked at the door in time to see Darren, arms crossed, blocking it. "…Well the good news there is his interim replacement is fully read in, or about to be."

"Darren?" Jonny looked at dark brown hair and ice blue eyes from over his dad's shoulder.

"I need to review this."

Alex flipped over a file, "This one too. I'm pretty sure this is what war-drums sound like on paper. Where's Venus?"

"…Downstairs, you mind checking in on her?"

"Not at all, sir." Alex saluted and bowed out quickly, "Where's Ian?"

"…With her now. Race, call Bennett, I want someone we trust with eyes on all of your kids until we know up from down."

Race nodded in appreciation and dialed.

-Chapter 4 JQ-

In the spacious kitchen with black appliances and counters, Darren watched Venus teeter as she shoveled five pounds of freshly chopped carrots, onions, mushrooms, and potatoes into a pot of simmering curry stew.

"Sweetie, _park it_." The girl shot a frown through him, he walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, coincidentally strong-arming her back toward the chairs, "Seriously."

Taking in her options, she bobbed her head and took a seat, eying him nervously. He didn't like that look, she was feeling insecure, he knew that, but he didn't know how else to assuage her concern.

"…I hurt your leg, didn't I?" He asked after a long minute. "I'm a grade-A fuck up, no wonder Snow was pissed at me. He told me to sleep it off, and instead I went and tweaked you out even more than you already were."

She frowned at that, "… _You're_ not the family fuck-up."

Darren smirked, "Oh, I'm pretty certain my old man would disagree." His smirk faltered as she started to tear up. "What? What did I do now?"

"…Daddy…"

He didn't like how small she sounded, how _frail_ , he slung his arms around her in a bear hug. "Dad's right here, princess. What is it? You can tell me _anything_."

She nodded with a sniffle, "…Grandpa was the real family fuck-up… he fucked it up so bad he did a complete do-over just to make sure he could repeat being that much of a fuck-up."

Darren's head turned to the side, "…You mean by having me?" He didn't deny that stung a little, but then again he wasn't sure where she was taking that. "…You don't, do you?"

"…You really _don't_ know?" She scowled, "But nonna sung about it all the time… in her silly operas…"

Darren pulled out a clove cigarette. "You mean about how he was a good-for-naught cheating louse? Yeah, I remember."

"…How about the verse about the illegitimate kid he had with that said red-headed whore?"

As his pupils dilated, Venus realized he hadn't been as active of a listener as she'd assumed. "…Mom _knew_ about them?"

"…Them?" Venus's head tilted, "There was only one, dad."

"Not to be argumentative, princess, but there _were_ two. One just happened to die." Darren sucked down a long drag, held it and blew it toward the ceiling. "My half-sister wrote to Phil and me at mom's funeral. She told us who she was, and that she didn't want anything to do with us but that she thought we deserved to know about _her_ , what with our shadows living over her for _her_ whole childhood."

Venus frowned, "She's not the one nonna knew about then."

"Sweetie, I need you to read me in. Who are _you_ talking about?"

"…How old is your half-sister?"

"She's about three years older than me. She and her mom live in the DC area. That's why mom bought _this_ house… At first, he convinced her that she wasn't _his_ , but then the same redhead showed up still not married and _pregnant again_ … Mom was going to leave dad, but he begged her to come back, that Phil needed a dad, that I'd need a dad… and that he'd _never_ do it again…"

"But she had a boy." Venus frowned, "…And gave him the surname Corbin."

Darren shook his head, "That fucking _slut_ …" He put a hand over his mouth, "Sorry, that language was uncalled for…"

"She used the _old_ _world_ spelling," Venus pushed.

"You're talking about the one that died. I hadn't heard he got the ol' surname, but the one who was my age? Rick?"

"…Richard _Allen_ Corbin." Venus folded her arms, "When did he die?"

Darren measured his daughter, he could tell they were doing a show-and-tell, but he wasn't exactly thrilled here. "When he was 15, at first I thought dad had laid off me since the Iran debacle, but then I heard it through the grape vine that his illegitimate kid died and he was just depressed. He thought I was a wash, Phil was like him, and he lost the other one _like him_ , so I stopped trying to appease him at all. I signed on with Alpha One and did full assignments but I decided I never really _needed_ to be military to do what I needed to do and he just stopped asking me to follow more closely in _his_ footsteps."

Venus lowered her head, "…That's what _grandpa_ thought happened, but that isn't. How did he think he died?"

"He never owned up to him even existing so I don't know." Darren frowned, "I had heard rumors of an illness though."

Venus frowned, "Dad, that was in 76."

"…Yeah, I know the math."

She gave him a withering look as if to contest that, "…That was when you were _supposed_ to be in Iran… when all those American kids died in their revolution."

"I _know_ what happened in 76." He said flatly.

"I don't think you do." Venus said defiantly, "Those 14 spots—"

"13 went, only De came back alive."

"—From Alpha, sure, but Intelligence One sent one over last minute. From DC… dad, I think Allen is your half-brother. Things went south, and he didn't make it _back_ but it wasn't because he _died_. It was because he _couldn't_ get back."

Darren's jaw dropped. "What?"

"…After he _did_ get out of Iran, he went to England, under the alias Allen Heith. A couple, Theresa and Frederick Heith had gone to Iran, they even had a deceased son named Allen who was a year older than Rick Corbin, but he died of cancer the year before, they were trying to gain closure, but instead they rescued a stranded kid and were trying to start over, he spun some bullshit, they took him in, and then three years later, they died in a house fire and Allen was gone. There's indications he bounced around Europe among other places for a decade or so, doing who-knows-what, but there's also a record of one Rick Cobin in the CIA that matches his age, and then a few years ago, he came back state-side. Guess when."

"Oh I _love_ these games." Darren said sourly. "…Is this about a year before Phil filed for divorce?"

Venus smiled, "Your point."

"You still think what happened to Jenna was Allen?"

Venus nodded, "Uncle Phil and Aunt Claire stuck with the line that she got sick and got lost, but truth is, he took her. He wanted to prove he could do it better, that _he_ could…"

Darren pulled her into a tight hug, "You think he's going after you and Jonny to prove he's more of an asshole than my old man?"

Venus frowned, "…You and I both know motives can be as petty as thinking purple isn't someone else's power color. I don't know why he's really doing it, but jealousy or envy are highly probable, that or proving himself worthy…"

"If he _really_ thinks he's my half-brother, you know what that means, don't you?"

She gave a firm nod, "If he takes me, I have a weapon."

"…A weapon?" His voice went dry.

"…I deny him the one thing he wants more than anything, recognition."

"Oh Jesus, no! No that is the exact opposite of what you do! Did you _enjoy_ getting stabbed that much that you want to repeat it?!"

"…Dad, that's another thing."

"Oh Christ, there's more?" He let out a long breath, "What else is there?"

Now unsure if she _should_ say, she frowned, "The crime-scene photos—the creeps who grabbed me? They weren't in the autopsy photos. They weren't _there_."

Darren's jaw dropped, "You mean to tell me that there are three of those assholes floating around and you're only getting around to telling me this _now_?"

She worried her lip. "…It gets better?"

"I seriously doubt it, but please do go on." He crossed his arms.

"…I have my working theory on the case upstairs in my bedroom… and Alex and Jonny are looking through it right now…" she cast her eyes low, refusing to make the contact, "…I know I should've said something _before_."

"Ya _think_?" He shot back, livid.

"The piece with Arquette didn't make sense! I _had_ to run the numbers! But now… and with Jenna…"

He clenched his jaws, "Stop talking about _her_." The flinch made him growl even more, "Damn it, stop worrying about _her_. She didn't worry about hurting _you_ , so why are _you_ so upset about returning the favor?! I'm _glad_ you're okay, I'm _happy_ you defended yourself, don't you _get that_?"

"Oh yeah, chuckles, you look _real_ happy."

Darren let out a dark laugh, "Don't be a monster-brat," he pet her cheek, "I love you. If anything happened to you I wouldn't know what to do with myself. You're stuck with me, and you're not getting out of that _ever_." He leaned over to kiss her bangs, "Now as for that leg…"

"It's really no big deal. I twisted it a little last night. I couldn't feel it at the time."

"Yeah, and because I rolled up on you at the ass-crack of dawn thinking it was frostbite and gave you a lymphatic massage. That _had_ to have hurt."

"…It really doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. I'm _sorry_. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice softened, he looked at her taking in the fragility of a child.

Venus frowned a little her blue eyes locked on his in a pleading look, "…Did you like the coffee?"

He laughed, "You're the sweetest kid I know, yet you are simultaneously the worst coffee-maker I have ever met in my entire god-damned life. I am _not_ discounting non-humans in this list. I am pretty sure Jonny's dog would be better at it than you. Please stop."

"…But you like it when you're hung over…" she goaded weakly.

Darren's laugh deepened, "When I'm hung over, it's ambrosia, when I'm tired, it's literally just torture." He kissed her forehead again, "I love you."

"…I love you too, dad." She squeezed him back into his hug. "Are you _really_ not mad at me?"

"Oh, I didn't say I _wasn't_ mad at ya." He bopped her nose, "We're going to have a _long_ _talk_ about this later, princess. I can't have you compartmentalizing as good as me yet. It's too dangerous. And holy shit, you are going to be so grounded."

-Chapter 4 JQ-

Ian plucked a potato from the curry stew and sucked in air as he swallowed the scalding-hot tot. "Sooo good…"

Venus smiled at the antics, still standing in the corner, arms curving around her waist as she stood sentinel over the kitchen.

"So," he glanced toward her.

"…So." She parroted.

"Claire's dead." He said in deadpan, "I guess she was being too Chatty of a Cathy." He eyed her as her face fell into a contorted grimace.

He slipped the cubed meats into the stew and pushed it in with a wooden spoon.

"How?" She asked darkly.

"I'm going with a cup of tea to die for."

"Do you think it was Arquette or do you think it was Gaia?" She asked pointedly.

Ian shook his head, "Or suicide, that's possible. It's not quite a cyanide capsule and foaming at the mouth, but Claire knew she was fucked."

"…No. She's too narcissistic for that. Who do you really think killed her?" Venus chewed on the tip of her thumb, fuck her leg was throbbing. "…Arquette seems too patient to blow it on an impulse, so it _has_ to have been Gaia, but would Allen pull his support from _her_? Why? He used her to keep Jenna safe."

"Maybe he's ready to take back his other poppet."

Venus shot a glare at her friend, "What the fuck do you mean?"

He was taken aback by that reaction, they'd spoken about Allen's procured _girls_ , his own fucked up version of 'Charlie's Angels.' "You know Allen keeps _pets_."

"..." She clenched her jaw, "Pets? Is that what you think they are? That's one hell of an exotic collection of murderers."

"…Then tell me about what it means. You and Alex never read _me_ in, and that's _bullshit_. I'm in your corner! I've _always_ been."

She slid into the wall, no longer letting the weight bite into her ankle.

"…You don't know what you're asking me to tell you." She looked down.

"Arquette said he had three she knew about. One in Argentina, one in Jenna, and one in her daughter."

Venus frowned, "Well then she's wrong. He has _two_ in Argentina… or _had_ two. Dawn and…" her voice vanished, her mouth dried on her as her voice died in abject realization. "…He uses doubles to protect his _real_ … but then… oh fuck."

Ian approached her, put a hand on her shoulder, he could feel her shaking.

"…But the only reason for that for Rory or me would be…" She slid down the wall to the floor.

"You aren't making sense, _tell me_." Ian's eyes pierced through his tinted glasses onto Venus's as he squeezed her arm again to try to ground her. " _Please_ , I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

"Ian, why would _I_ need a body double?"

"Easy, to play the shell game," he offered stoically.

"…And what would that prize be?" Venus frowned.

He considered it, "You not getting killed by the KGB. He's been pulling her through Europe to give _you_ cover."

"…And make it so the _defect_ would get killed. But she can only get killed by the _right people_ or it's useless to him."

"And she _has_ to look like you for that to matter, so he _couldn't_ have her on her meds…"

Her arms curled around her chest as she let out a hitched sob. "I ruined her life just by _existing_ , no wonder Aunt Claire _hated me_."

The shell-shocked look on Ian's face was quickly replaced with resolve as he pulled her into a pinned hug. "No, _you_ didn't bring that on. That was _his_ game." He frowned as he filled in his own gaps as to _why_ he'd do it. "His target has been _Darren_ , that's who he wants to prove himself to…"

Venus gave a weak nod, "…So he's going to attack my sister, and my brother, and me so he _has_ to recognize he can destroy his whole family, again? I'm not sure that makes…"

"He's not trying to _kill_ them. He's trying to make you able to _survive_ because his _real_ family didn't… I mean, his _biological_ —you're his real-real family…" He backpedalled but knew that grenade had just punched a crater through her. "Fuck! I didn't mean to say…"

"He first approached me after I almost _died_ … He's trying to prove a fucking _point_?! What? That he'd be better than my _dad_?" Her eyes hardened. That was it, wasn't it? He was trying to rub it in Darren's face that she faltered because she'd been weak because _he_ hadn't made her stronger.

Venus forced herself up, her stomach ached fiercely. "I need air."

Ian looked at her like she had sprouted an extra head. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're not going outside."

The glare she shot through him cut down his argument.

"Don't make me restrain you, _please_ Venus." He took a step to follow her; he was thrilled to see Alex come into the kitchen. "Alex, oh thank god, talk sense into her—she wants to take a fucking _walk_."

Venus waltzed between them ignoring the throb in her leg and the tightness in her chest, she sloughed her apron off. "I'm going to my room."

Alex laughed nervously, "Uh, you may… want to… give that a minute. Venus, the guy who roughed you up—apparently he's the guy who grabbed Jonny a few years ago, and some other guy who was with him at the time—well, he just got sprung from the joint and was in Riker's."

"Rikers?!" Her eyes went to the size of saucers as she grabbed his shoulder with the force of a snake-bite. "…Dmitry… Is _he_ still in?!"

"I—I don't know, they called _Race_ , I don't know if he'd even know to _ask_ about him."

Venus pulled at the collar of her shirt, breathing was getting far too difficult even to fake. "Inhaler… I need my…"

Ian nodded, "Where is it? Your bedroom or your bag?"

She gasped out wisps.

"Fuck! Alex, you check through her bag, I'll go check her room—see if _Darren_ knows where it is." The sight of blue rolling over into whites made Ian sprint up the stairs, "Hey geezer—her inhaler, where is it?!"

Darren looked up from the file in time to see Ian running into the room, pulling at drawers.

He stood, took a hurried step to her vanity desk, and pulled the drawer to reveal her rescue inhaler. "I've got it, what did you little shits do?" He said as he made his rush down the stairs around a harried trio.

Within a minute, Darren was hovering over Venus pushing the inhaler at the teen.

"Hey, hey, you need to take this…" He put it in her hand and helped her raise it to her mouth. Up-turned eyes fluttered without recognition, he put the medical device against her lips, keeping her hand around it. "Come on, take a few puffs. Breathe in deep." As he coached, he pressed the plunger from around her hand three times. The wheezing inhale was a promising sound, well, at least from a compliance angle.

Pulling her into a seated position, he depressed the plunger again, his fingers curled around her wrist to count her pulse. She flopped forward into his shoulder taking in a staggered set of breaths, her eyes blinking to shut. He could feel her pulse slowing, the counter-intuitive positive indication as her breaths slowed but also deepened.

"You need to sit down for a little bit, come on, let's get you off the floor." He said as he picked her up, he highly doubted she'd have her legs under her even if he tried to have her walk it off. "So, what the fuck happened, boys?"

"…Darren, if there was a prison break at _Rikers_ … would you know if Oleski got out? Would they tell you?"

His eyes went wide, "Kid, if _Oleski_ got out there'd be one _hell_ of a breech."

"—The same degree as a _terrorist_ , I'd say." Benton shot from the entryway of the kitchen. He helped Darren pick up Venus and maneuver her back to the living room into a chair in a stagger.

Darren let out a shaky breath, he knew Dmitry was kept in general population but the most secure wing. It was in the realm of possibilities, "So she had that thought and that caused this?"

"…No, she had the thought that Allen was using doppelgangers as a means to kill a double and clear a debt." Ian said in a strangely defiant tone. "And then that asshole wants to keep her all for himself to hurt _you_."

"Shit." Darren patted Venus's cheek. "Why does she think _that_?"

In a simmering rage, Ian chimed, "Because apparently there's _two_ poppets in Argentina, not _one_."

"Arquette only mentioned one." He said firmly.

"She also didn't know about Jenna and thought _she_ was Venus. Oleski hasn't seen her grow up, if he was being fed info… don't you think they could _steer_ it to what they wanted him to see?"

Jonny trudged to the center of the impromptu crew piling around the chair.

"I think I can fill in a few more of those loose connections, including objectives… Darren, do you know the doomsday cult Ezekiel Rage leads?"

Darren's head swiveled toward the added voice.

"…Race and dad were called in on a mission for I-1 when a CIA operative named Rick Cobin showed up murdered on a beach, but I'd wager you can't find an autopsy for him. And Gaia has a nerve gas recipe they were trying to make dad reproduce en masse that was derived off tetrodatoxin. In the right doses, that makes a person look pretty dead without actually being dead."

In silent awe, Benton watched his son break down a hellish scenario. "I'd say Zeke qualifies as a flipped operative, dad, don't you think so too?"

"…I… would say, yes." He swallowed thickly.

"I think Zeke is a brand ambassador of sorts, he's charismatic and can get people through the door, but he's a doomsday cultist, not exactly the brand this Allen creep would go for long-term, but to get numbers?"

Darren lowered his head, "So why did he fake his own death?"

"Because he completed his first objective and he didn't need Rage involved anymore on site, and how better to dispatch him than to have his enemies make the arrest? It would raise Rage's mythos that much further, and then he could be 'resurrected' and be the natural next in line, except he was _always_ in control. Rage is just a zealous figurehead."

"…A first chair." Darren laughed to himself in a jaded chuckle, "Mother fucker."

"Darren, you should see if Oleski is out, and where Rage is. He _may_ still be in play."

Jonny pulled his phone out, Hadji already on the line. "Hadj, did you catch that?"

"Yes, Jonny. I most certainly did. I am performing the search now," There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again, "Dmitry Oleski is still accounted for, but Ezekiel Rage is not. He, too, was at Riker's."

"…Well, at least _that_ cloud has a silver lining." Darren let out, subconsciously he brushed Venus's bangs back.

"Do not be so optimistic, a dozen prisoners escaped in this jail break, of them, it appears they each have become dedicated followers of Ezekiel Rage."

Darren grimaced painfully. "Alright, didn't need _that_ bit of cheer, Jonny, what do you think Allen's objective is in linking up with this Ezekiel guy?"

"He's pretty much a militant arsonist and a religious nutter people flock to. Powerful people with resources, in fact, so if I needed to bankroll something on the down low I'd think that would be a pretty good income generator. The revenue is legit, you have people willing to do some pretty crazy things, and if he has ties to a government—he could _probably_ orchestrate a coup." Jonny touched Venus's shoulder, from what Darren had told him of her, he doubted she was _really_ asleep. "Venus, what would Allen want in Argentina?"

Darren interrupted, "Aurora Alvarez. She married into a prominent political family and her husband very well may be the next president there. He has the popular vote, and presently the confidence in the current leadership there is nose-diving due to some violent riots and economic down-turn. On paper it looks like it's on the up-and-up, but it reeks of CIA subterfuge."

"Why would they want to destabilize Argentina?" Jonny asked softly.

"…Alex, maybe you can ask your dad to look into that angle. Jonny, Rick Cobin was CIA, and they have a tendency to be self-righteous assholes who think they know best by using very short-term fixes for long-term non-issues. Maybe to get a better trade deal at the expense of a stable government, it's hard to say."

-Chapter 4 JQ-

The lunch table was unnaturally quiet for such a large gathering, the sounds of metal on porcelain echoed.

Half-awake, Venus scooped up curry broth on rice eating half-heartedly. While the boys were more engaged in plowing through the calories, only Alex and Ian seemed immune to the tension around them.

"This Rage guy, who is he? We've never had a run-in with _him_ before…" Alex stated casually while piling on even more veggies and meat, now on his second helping.

Darren pinched the brim of his nose, these boys ate like _they_ did a stay in a prison. "He's a former I-1 agent, he had a surprise in the field and it blew his cover wide open in the worst of ways. His wife and kid showed up on a stealth mission, it got them killed and disfigured him… though, at the time he was assumed dead, too."

"Huh, disfigured, how so?"

"…He's got burns over 80 percent of his body from the car bomb." Jonny said mutely, "He also hallucinates, which only feeds into his delusions. He thinks Jessie is his dead daughter Carla. They don't _look_ anything alike though."

Race smiled at Jonny, "Yeah, truth be told, Carla looked more like Jonny here."

With a clink of her spoon, Venus's head rose, "Do they _sound_ alike though? A firebomb could easily put out enough light to cause serious damage to the retina." She closed her eyes as she pictured the flash that had wiped out her parents' armor-plated vehicle almost 13 years ago.

Darren's hand reached across the table to grab hers.

"…You said he's an arsonist? _Goody_ , just regular fire, or does he like bombs too?"

Dr. Quest glanced at Darren, he looked like his lunch was a bowl of broken glass. "He uses bombs primarily, though he _dabbles_ in chemical warfare of all sorts. We should be grateful biological weapons aren't more to his liking."

"Those are indiscriminate. That's hardly of any use to a person with a manifesto." Venus leaned back in her chair, "Dad, mind if I head up to my room for a while?"

"That depends, are you going upstairs to sleep, or to sulk?"

"…Yes." She nodded, her eyes narrowed to slits as she shot him the sarcastic response, "I'm really tired, and there's new information to plug in, so after I update the case file I'm going to crash for a while."

"Alright, well, thanks for making lunch. The boys'll clean up, so go on up."

Venus nodded and pushed back from the table.

They waited until she was up the steps before Race asked, "Too close to home? Does she remember _that_?"

Darren let out a slow breath, "Oh she does, enough at least, on a plus side she stopped _blaming_ herself for it a few years ago."

Benton looked between the two other adults at the table, "Have I missed something?"

Darren's eyebrows shrugged, "Well hell, maybe she'll finally put her hobby to good use."

"…Today's the anniversary of when it happened, it happened on the Day of the Dead… this _can't_ be a coincidence." Jonny offered reverently.

Race put a hand over Jonny's shoulder, "Bennett's with Hadji and Jessie, they're safe. We're here with you and your sister, and you're both safe too."

"And Arquette killed the one person who could've told us more about their objectives—and now _we're_ dead in the water playing _catch up_." Jonny shoved back in the chair, the wood made an unpleasant scraping noise for the wear.

"You think she did it?" Darren asked, honing in on his instincts.

"I told you I'd trust her to give us information but I wouldn't trust her to fix my drink, didn't I? I think she'd kill me in a heart-beat if it meant spiting Gaia their opportunity, so why would you think she wouldn't kill someone who'd actually _turned_?" He saw the look of panic sweep over his dad's face and quickly dissipate behind a stoic mask. He blew out an uneven breath.

Alex reached to the center of the table to gather up a glass of milk for himself, "Dr. Quest, one of Venus's hobbies is making incendiary explosive devices and practicing how to diffuse them. There's a strict _no glitter in the gee-dee house_ rule per Darren. Oh it was _glorious_ , pink foilwent _everywhere_. Phil kept asking Darren if he took up pole-work, and we thought Phil was going to get shot."

"…What?"

"You know, _strippers_ —they wear glitter _all the time_."

Darren gave Alex the look to wrap it up. "Alex is trying to impress upon you that he is edgy and cool and has seen a whole two rated R movies in his life."

Ian snorted at his friend, "We really try to keep him away from celebrities, he gets star-struck and then acts like a complete spaz, but hey at least he hasn't started to quote your articles."

"…I'd rather he _sign_ those…" Alex mumbled, "…Dad's going to be so jealous. That one about algorithms that can be used as a Turing test has really helped my dad out in the online dating sphere."

Darren slid a hand down his face, "Your dad _isn't_ dating and he isn't online looking to, either."

"I know! That's because of that article!" Alex smiled toothily, "Or at least _I_ think that's why."

Ian stared at Alex, embarrassed for him, "It's because your dad's a nerd—and not the _romanticized_ kind. He works 90-plus hour work weeks, takes a day off once a month at most, and then still barely remembers he's supposed to _feed_ you. He's too busy to date."

Alex frowned at the last gibe. "He remembers to feed me, he just doesn't know when I'll be at the house is all."

Race looked over to Darren, he remembered _those_ days all too well, with renewed interest in what the boy was wearing he could see the earmarks of childhood poverty in the off-brand clothes that were just a little too big and too small, and the realization about why he'd load up on food while there- where it was readily available.

"Well he does!" He reiterated as Ian gave him the 'I'm not convinced' look. He rolled his eyes.

Jonny picked up two of the bowls and headed toward the kitchen as he bussed the used dishes.

-Chapter 4 JQ-

In a cross mood, Jonny leaned back into the living room's couch, practically fusing with the cushion, he eyed his dad and Race, "Dad, why do _you_ think Dr. Arquette is cleaning house now?"

Benton rested his large hand over Jonny's shoulder, "Your guess would be as good as mine."

Jonny frowned, "No it wouldn't be, you _knew_ her, way more than I do, she's getting rid of the people who can answer our questions, who might be _willing_ to if cornered. That can't be coincidental."

Race clucked his tongue, "Are you sure about that?"

The teen turned toward Race, "…What do you mean?"

"You said you thought Jenna was trying to _show_ you something. Do you think she'd still be willing to?" He watched Jonny's face glow with opportunity. "You said Arquette all but wrote _her_ off, but Phil's no fool, and neither was Claire. Jenna might not be mentally well, but she's not stupid."

"So she might know something and Arquette just discounted her entirely… Dad—can we?"

Benton crossed his arms as he considered it, "I don't see what we could do here that would add value, but that might break things open. If you're comfortable with that plan, we can pay a visit."

"Then let's go. I'm done being at _their_ whim, they want to come after us? They need to get in line, plus we need to show Race's friend here how _we_ do things." The gentle smirk his dad shot his way took a weight off his chest. "They need to see how _a team_ operates. Better yet, a Quest Team."

His dad ruffled his hair, "Don't get too ahead of yourself. This _is_ dangerous, and we need to be collaborative, but I don't see a reason not to look into that angle. Race, can you arrange for it? Would Phil be more receptive to you asking?"

"Ah hell, even if he isn't, we're showing up. After what he pulled on you, he'll get over it."

"Then, I'll let Darren know what we're planning. I'll be back momentarily." Benton said, remiss to break the contact with Jonny, he was on-edge, he recognized that readily enough, but at least he could focus on something productive.

As he made his way up the stairs, he stopped upon sight of the balcony, holding back to listen to the conversation happening there.

-Chapter 4 JQ-

Sitting on the cold balcony floor, Venus looked out over the fenced in yard struggling to catch her breath as she thought through the implications swirling around her.

Allen, more than a turn-coat, was gunning for her father and using her as ammo. Ezekiel Rage, a religious zealot, was mounting a small army to do who-knows-what. Dr. Arquette, a grieving mother, was on the war-path and burning every bridge she could find. Claire Westcott… was dead, and Jenna and Phil Korvin were grieving that loss, and she still didn't know why Allen would have made that move.

And why was Allen targeting Rory? She could assume why _her_ , but not why he'd go after her estranged half-sister— _non-sister_ , but he'd tied into that line _twice_ before! She shivered as she recalled just what his poppets _could_ do.

Just the memory of her dad beat near unrecognizably, how his ribs had caved so unnaturally from their _last_ run in… and yet, even still, there'd always been that question of why they'd have let him _live_ when it was so clear they could've done worse. Were they going to _now_? Silently, she cried into her knees, promising herself she'd _never_ let that happen. Whatever the blood-price, she'd pay it… she wouldn't let them kill any more of her family.

"Sweetie, what're you doing out here? Don't tell me you're overheated."

Venus lifted her head to see her dad edging toward her, true to his fatherly form, he had his bomber jacket at the ready, and over her shoulders before she could even realize she _was_ cold for once. Stupid hypothermia.

"…Daddy?"

He sat next to her and leaned his head back to look at the day-time sky.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know that right?" He nudged her with his shoulder fondly, "You can _never_ get rid of me, even if you went and tried."

"I'd never _try_. I don't want to lose you." She frowned.

He let out a breathy laugh, "Sweetie, we've got to play this careful. These assholes are after _you_ , too. You trust me, right? You trust that I will _never_ let them have you…"

Her frown intensified into a grimace, "They're going to come at us with the kitchen sink. Promise me you won't leave me again. I don't want to make it through only for you to be _gone_." Darren pulled her into a hug.

"I'll do everything in _my_ power to make sure you're stuck with me until a very ripe old age, I'll do anything for you, princess. You're my world and I mean that. This place is too fucking depressing without you lighting up my day."

Venus smiled softly, "Then let's find a way to light up those mother fuckers…"

He cracked a smile, "Now that's my little problem-solver…"

"…Daddy?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"You promise?" She asked again, curling into his side-armed hug.

"To let you light them up or…?" He took in her serious expression, "I promise I'll do anything to keep you the happiest princess in the world, and if that means slogging around for another 70 some-odd years, so be it." He watched her put on a thin smile, "That's my girl. Now come on inside, you know you're not supposed to refreeze meat that's just thawed."

Venus let out a dark laugh, "So now I'm game?"

"Ah, sweetie, you've always been game to my bullshit." He winked at her playfully as he helped her up to her feet. "It's not your fault what happened to Claire, just like what happened to Viktor and Ana wasn't on you either. People are responsible for their own decisions, and the living get stuck footing those bills sometimes."

"…I just don't know what Allen would hope to gain from it, though. If she already _talked_ there was no benefit in shutting her up after the fact…"

"Yeah, well, your brother is on a competing theory to yours, he thinks it was Dr. Arquette, maybe as an act of vengeance, but I get the feeling there's more to it than that."

"Wolves don't do petty acts of vengeance." She laughed, "But wasps seem vindictive, they'll just fly in and sting you for the sake of it." Venus smirked to herself then froze, "Dad, what _is_ Dr. Arquette a doctor in anyway?"

"Hmm? I dunno, she's a research scientist, but I couldn't say _what_ she studied. I _do_ know it wasn't medical science."

"Because you believe a live woman over a dead one? That Dr. Yuan made the save too quick to not be in on it?"

He nodded, "For starters."

"…But if she'd _infiltrated_ wouldn't she know their ways of getting rid of people, too? Are we giving her too much good credit? We're assuming the enemy of our enemy is our friend, but that doesn't mean it's true. She came at us with a gun, she didn't try to _warn_ us."

Glumly, he looked her over. "Hold that thought."

"What? Why?" She looked at him uneasily.

"…Because we're already running on that assumption." Benton said, stepping around the sliding glass door to be visible to the pair. "We're going to head over to the hospital and see if Jenna is still willing to _talk_ to Jonny. She had something in her pocket she wanted to _show_ him before, and we mean to see what it is now."

"Are you crazy? Jenna's…" she turned to look at her dad as if begging him to jump on board with her and stop them from making sure a bad mistake.

"—I'll call Phil and let him know you're on your way over."

"DAD!" She turned to gawk, "Why would—"

"Venus, I appreciate that your dynamics with Jenna has shaped this reaction, but that's precisely why _we_ can do this and you cannot. Jenna doesn't see Jonny in the same way she sees you, and he'll hardly be alone. We work as a team and we trust each other, and what we can contribute to the team. Jonny feels confident in this, and I support that."

Her jaw dropped, "Well as long as you _support_ it… you're _still_ crazy."

"Arquette left a loose end, and she _hasn't_ left many. They have to go for it." Darren clarified, "Benton, you were listening in the whole time, yeah?"

He noticed the soft blush that elicited, at least he had enough tact to seem bashful for intruding on the intimate moment, "I heard enough…"

"…Then what does Arquette research, anyway? What's her focus?"

His face soured. "…Genetics, you know how Jonny was speaking to when Rick Cobin washed up dead on a beach, what he didn't say was that Ezekiel Rage was using kelp as a means of thought-control by using genetically modified versions that produced a litany of drugs when digested. Namely hallucinogenics."

Venus looked from Dr. Quest to Darren then back again, "…How does Ezekiel Rage feel about nerve agents, too?"

Benton crossed his arms, " _That_ would be well within his wheel-house, unfortunately."

"And what would Argentina mean to _him_?"

"That I don't know."

TBC in Chapter 5.


	5. Chapter 5

Frequency Chapter 5 by Vanessa S. Quest

The car ride had been stifling, and Jonny didn't want to admit it, but his leg was throbbing again, but at least he could move—it was rigid mobility, but mobility was mobility. He looked at his dad and Race through the rearview mirror, his dad looked pensive, and Race looked focused. The kind of intense focus he got when things were going real south, real fast.

"Kiddo, you think the diplomat can come out for a visit?" Race asked after a long moment, he knew intrinsically it was a facet of Jonny and not a character or half-baked role. If anything, he saw it as Jonny's future self he was growing into, and right now, he needed it, Phil needed it, and Jenna most of all needed it. He saw more of Jonny's father in that than he thought the teen did, and he could understand that—Benton was more of a hot-head and would use the conjuncture of his reputation and his readiness to adapt, but he was a devout papa bear and one did not mess with bears and expect there wouldn't be consequences if the bear took the upper hand.

The calm, stoic head bob made Race's own anxiety drop a notch. He could tell Jonny was furious, but he was holding it in and frankly that too was a necessity.

"We'll be in the room with you, and we'll speak with Phil, if Jenna tries _anything,_ just walk away." Benton added to the foray.

Jonny gave another nod, not that it convinced any member of the car that it would play out _that_ way.

"Jonny, I mean it." Benton said again in a gentle rebuke, "She's still dangerous."

The teen's eyes narrowed, "Dad, trust me."

"I do, it's _her_ that I don't." He turned to look at his son, neither mentioned Jonny was still walking with a limp, one that he hadn't had before last night.

They parked in a parking deck toward the deserted sublevel, more people having a tendency to turn toward the right and thus ascend the deck versus the left and descend. They found parking on SL-2.

Efforts to enter the wing Jenna was admitted to were more relaxed than Race thought appropriate, but he'd take that up with Phil in a few moments. The man probably hadn't realized security wasn't set up when he was rushing there in the witching hours of the morning.

Benton was silently simmering as he recognized the wing to be general ward instead of the psychiatric ward. He glanced at Jenna as she laid in a fluffy white hospital bed, the contrast of what he'd imagined her to seem like and what she was acting like was night and day.

She was flopping a stuffed teddy bear on her belly, laughing at it as it went limp and sprang back up, half of her forehead was under gauze, the rest seemed well coifed, brushed to a shine, she did look an awful lot like Venus from that angle, though he couldn't remember the other girl ever smiling so infectiously.

"Daddy, we have visitors! I think uncle's here!" She cheered as she looked at her weary father.

"Oh? Is that so, honey? Let me check to see what he wants." He turned in time to see not his brother, but Race and Dr. Quest, and better yet—Jonny. He grimaced, "Why, whatever are you doing here? You really _are_ into wellness checks, hmm?"

"Stow it, Phil, I'm sorry about what happened, but we need to get to the bottom of it… does… does she know?"

Phil shook his head, "No, and I'd really prefer that to be on _my_ terms."

"Of course, Phil… Phil, Jonny thinks she may be key to working out something important. And there's something you need to know too. We need to talk," Race cocked his head to the corner of the room. "But we plan on staying in here with both of the kids."

"Oh certainly, I'm at your beck and call." He said in mild sarcasm, sarcasm that Race felt ran far deeper than he meant to reveal and knew he'd have to file that away and examine it later.

He put a hand on his childhood friend's arm. "I mean it Phil, that's an awful thing that happened. We both know that first hand." He cocked his head to Benton who had a similarly grim, contrite look.

"…She made her choices, _selfish_ as they were. I don't even know how to begin telling…" he put a hand over his mouth to contain his own pained sob. The woman might have been money hungry, but it didn't stop him from loving her anyway. He shook his head with the resolve to stay strong for his daughter's sake. "You're not here to discuss that, and I'm not currently in the mood to do so _either_."

He was surprised to feel Benton's hand on his shoulder, "You're right—about that first part at least. She made her choices, and now we have to unpack those. We've discovered a link between Gaia and Ezekiel Rage."

"…Rage? What the hell would compel him to work with _eco-terrorists_? He's not exactly against the carbon footprint."

Race smirked, "Yeah, well it gets better."

"…Where are you sourcing your information from, anyhow?" He crossed his arms, "I don't _doubt_ it, you Quests have a tendency to get to the bottom of things, but I'd still like to know where you're pulling data from."

"Your niece had it, she's been putting together her own working hypothesis, we see it a little differently, but we also have a fuller view of the picture." Race said evenly.

"…Venus had it? And Darren knows? Well, now he knows at least…" he blew out an annoyed sigh, "Goodness, one more fire to put out."

"…Fire?" Dr. Quest asked, unsure.

Phil smirked darkly, "I gave my niece archive rights to Intelligence One files after her little visit to my rehab center. She needed a sense of security and I was in the position to provide it. Intelligence One and Alpha One work on two very different models of observation and sometimes we get intel we store that they aren't otherwise privy to. Namely, I knew damn well that Darren was on a sting operation before things went so far south. She did not. He'll be miffed, but what are big brothers and uncles for if not modeling behaviors like how to break rules in the best of ways."

Race let out a laugh under his own cough, he could _definitely_ see Hadji having a similar world view.

Benton's eyebrow rose to demonstrate he wasn't sure the relevance of the derailment, but was happy to return to the subject at hand. "Ezekiel Rage is linked to the men who abducted Jonny and me in Florida, to that _pig_." He glanced cautiously to Jonny, glad the hushed conversation wasn't hitting him, it was already hard enough just knowing that monster was out, planning god only knew what.

"…You mean to tell me that Ezekiel Rage has access to a nerve gas?" His jaw dropped, "And he's working with Gaia?"

"It seems that way. Phil, what can you tell me about Rick Cobin?" Race said in an even voice. He saw Phil's body go taut, Race filed that under _interesting_.

"Rick Cobin you say?"

"…Or I could say Rick Allen Corbin, if you're more comfortable." Race crossed his arms.

In the first time in five years, he heard Phil "The Boy Scout" Korvin let out a string of profanities, "Shit balls. So Darren _and_ Venus know?"

Race smiled, he was getting pissed off playing this game, they didn't have time for it. "Phil… read us in so we can read _you_ in."

He shook his head, "…He helped me find Jenna in Europe when Claire and she got separated in a crowded marketplace. Jenna was missing for over two weeks. She hadn't been feeling well that morning and it turned out that someone had given her a mickey of sorts. It was a drug cocktail meant to disorient her and make her easier to abduct—which they did, but the effects were far more than what they'd obviously intended. She was seven, for crying out loud, and they thought she was just being _imaginative_ and was willfully being obstinate. Rick helped me track down the bastards, that was _my_ first encounter with Gaia."

"…And how did _he_ know where she was, and why did he help you?"

"Because he's a CIA mole, and yes, I knew who he was the moment I laid eyes on him. He's a spitting image of the old man."

Race's eyebrow shot up, "So are you." Phil laughed darkly.

"Hardly, Rick has the part that _mattered_ , he's a grey hat. He's more willing to dirty his hands in ways both Darren and I find reprehensible. In that look in those eyes, I recognized my father instantly." Benton's confused look made Phil rethink of how to explain. "My father was known to _bend_ rules to his whim, if it was for _the_ _greater good_ , the lesser evil was okay in his books. That's how he justified the affairs to himself. It's how he justified trying to cart Darren off to the army at 14 so he could serve in _Vietnam_ —luckily, we took after our mother, much more of a white hat, and said no way in hell. My baby brother didn't need to be shot just for the honor of serving. We took the moral high-road to get things done, and when you have the high-road on your side it's easy to look down at the others who don't. Not that we do, we try to understand circumstances, but there's times they are very unpalatable, and we frankly try our damnedest to keep that blood off our hands."

"…And Claire, how would _she_ feel about that?"

He shook his head, "We got Jenna back. That's what mattered, and that's blood I have on my hands, but we're fathers here. You understand. I did what I had to and I don't regret it. A lot of good came out of it for a lot of kids, too… but the consequences of my actions and of Rick's do haunt me, and they will for the rest of my life."

"…You opened the center for rehab for her?" Benton asked rhetorically, "What was the trade?"

Phil scoffed, "From that ivory tower, you'd never expect I'd give them access to the French databases, do you? I gave them other opportunities, and what they'd view as a means of blackmailing me later on, except Rick fell on that sword, he came up with that plan and pulled a name out of a hat. A Giselle Arquette. She wasn't babbling incoherently, either. They happily traded out the information that 'I' gave them and a functional child they could work on in exchange for my little girl."

"Did you try to get her back?" Race asked in shock. "The Arquette girl?"

"No. _I_ didn't, there wasn't a _way_ to pry her back out and the resources weren't going to be afforded to her or her family. So Rick did the next best thing, he _flipped_. He joined Gaia and kept tabs on her and other targets. But there are _appearances_ and things you have to do to be that deep and for _that long_."

Benton's jaw hit his chest.

"How could I tell my little brother that I was _perfectly_ willing to make an omelet when it wasn't _my eggs_ getting broken? Knowing what _he'd_ endured? No, I never told Darren the truth, and that also meant he never learned about Rick being alive. I… I was selfish there, too."

"So Claire would work with Rick because she felt she owed him?" Race asked.

"She blamed me for what happened to Jenna, and it was because of my job, but that was when our marriage really began to crumble. That she was always looking at the balance sheet was one thing, but many men marry high-maintenance women, that wasn't the issue—but she thought I sold out _our_ daughter for a non-blood relative, Darren's daughter could have been a faster trade… that I was _weak_ and didn't make the hard decision soon enough—that _that_ was why Jenna was broken, for some street-urchin my brother got attached to in his despair. She thought of her as a mutt. And then here's Rick, willing to dirty his hands, brave, and dark—she left me for him. I _never_ contested it, and we split custody, I didn't bring up the emotional affair, I just _took it_. But I wouldn't take her belittling my brother's choices or life. That was my line in the sand, she had to play nice. As long as she upheld that end of the bargain, I didn't care what she did with herself… except I did, of course, she's the mother of my child and she's the love of my life. And she died because I made that call."

"Arquette took her revenge." Benton said in a low voice.

"Only part of it. I'm alive, Jenna's alive, and if Claire threw my niece under the bus, do you really think she'll be in high favor there?"

Race sighed. "No, probably not." He glanced toward Jonny. He doubted he'd be safe from her rage, either or if he was far enough removed.

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Jonny looked at the happy, playful teenager in the hospital bed. She seemed so young, younger than _him_. He felt so unnerved by her joyful expression, he approached anyway.

"…Uh, Jenna? It's me, Jonny, we were… playing the other day. Do you remember me?"

The girl stopped flopping her teddy bear to look up at the boy, she frowned. "Oh, _you_ …" She smiled brightly, "I remember! Mom said I had to play especially nice with _you_!"

"…Oh, did she?" Jonny smiled through the broken glass in his mouth, "Does your mom like me?"

Jenna nodded excitedly, "Mom thinks you and your dad are really great, everything a family _should_ be…" she giggled, "But I think you need to get faster at playing hide and seek. It took you way too long to find me! Thanks for picking my pack outta the water! I was really worried, mom told me _not_ to get my wool socks wet." She went back to flopping her teddy bear around. "You seem to be getting faster though, this time it only took you a _day_ to find me, but you weren't tagged."

Jonny swallowed hard, "Oh, yeah? Who did you tag the last round?"

"…That _bitch_ ," Jenna scowled, she drew the teddy bear to her lips, "I don't like her. She's so stuck up and _mean_. Mom told me about all the bad things she did to me, before then I thought she was _nice_ too… but boy was I wrong! You have to be careful around her. She's _evil_." She shook her head, "Anyway, dad says I have to stay here for a while, so I can't play tag today."

"Oh, no, that's okay… I came to visit you. I heard you weren't feeling well. Jenna, when we were playing I had to go home before you could show me that thing… I—I didn't mean to be rude, but you know how parents are about curfews, don't you?"

Claire smiled, "I don't have curfews, when it's time to go out and play I get a free pass… usually I'm stuck at my school though." She fished under her blankets, she frowned as her hands kept trying to shove into pockets that simply weren't there. The more upset she looked, the more ready she looked to pounce, Jonny noted, he took half a step back.

"Oh, honey, what are you looking for? You're in pajamas, remember? Because you have to stay in bed," Phil called to remind her, breaking off from the landmine-laden conversation that was his life. He pulled her jeans from a drawer.

"I need my pockets!" She said in an important voice, "My pockets keep important things!"

"I'll get you a pair of pajamas with pockets then, but can you wait out until a little later, after our guests go home?"

"Ok dad!"

He smiled sadly, "Here honey, what did you need from them?"

She pulled out a wadded pair of photos and handed them to Jonny.

"A girl can keep her secrets, dad! No peeking, mom says boys have to let girls keep their mysterious ways!" She winked playfully.

The stabbing anguish Phil felt was masked quickly by an at your leave smile. "Of course so, honey." He meandered back to the corner, now much more intent on listening in to the kids than conversing with Benton or Race. His soul felt weary, he wondered if his 47 years had finally caught up with him. He took a seat and bowed his head, too tired to keep up the appearance of flawless control.

Benton and Race looked between themselves and said nothing.

"Who's that, Jenna?" Jonny smiled as he locked eyes on Dr. Arquette and Ezekiel Rage as they sandwiched a brunette girl who looked oddly familiar.

"Oh, Ellie? Only my best friend! She and dad travel for work lots, and sometimes mom takes me to see them both."

"…Your dad?" He looked at Phil, he really doubted he knew who that girl was.

"Mhmm, mom says he's my new dad… but it's okay to have more than one."

Jonny kept the sour look off his face, "What's your new dad's name?" He smiled, "I wonder if I've ever met him."

She laughed, "Oh, that wouldn't help you, he's a spooky ghost, he changes his names all the time so no one knows where or when he's been somewhere! But I don't mind him being a ghost, he's scared away so many bad men it's okay… and besides, you have to be scary to do those kind of scary things."

"…Those kind of scary things?"

"Like pulling fingernails off people to make them talk, or burning them with wires, nice dads don't do that. He's not _mean_ , of course, just scary." She smiled as Jonny palled in complexion.

"Oh, and who has he done that to? Did he ever have to scare _you_?"

"Oh no! He'd never!" She giggled, "He did that to the mean men. He and Mr. Ezekiel did that to some really not nice guys who they had to work with, they couldn't make them go away because they knew too much that they still needed…"

Jonny internalized that, they'd tortured the shit out of some guys they forced to work for them instead of outright killing them. "…How were they bad men?"

Jenna shrugged and played with her teddy bear again, "They didn't say, but he told me they weren't nice and I shouldn't try playing with them." She watched him look at the second picture. "That's him."

"Him? Your …new dad?"

She smiled, "Mhmm."

He looked at Phil, the photo of Jenna and the man who looked strikingly similar to Phil and Darren confirmed Venus's theory in his mind. "Does he go by Rick or Allen sometimes?"

"Oh, so you _have_ met him! He usually hides in plain-sight, he likes to do that lots."

"Jenna, does he talk to you about things sometimes, like work things? Does… oh I don't know, does Argentina mean anything special to him?"

"Argentina? Oh yeah! He visits there, he says I have a cousin there, and in Maine… we're cousins, did you know that?" She smiled at him again.

"…I did learn that recently, yes." Jonny smiled politely. "A cousin in Argentina? Is that _his_ daughter?"

She frowned, "No, then that would make them my sibling, silly! She has to stay there so that blood-sucker won't hurt her anymore!"

"Blood sucker?"

"That witch, the body snatcher—you have to be careful of _her_ too, she's _scary_. She hit me, you know! I was just doing what mom told me to and she _hit_ me!" She said indignantly. "And she did it the _mean_ way! I've seen her do lots of mean things. She shot a nice man… shot him _dead_ , all because he wouldn't tell her a secret! And I've _heard_ what she's done to others. She's evil."

"…I'll keep that in mind, Jenna." He made his place go neutral, "Do you mind if I show this picture to Race? I think he might know him, and I just want to make sure."

She looked at him crossly, after a long moment, she crossed her arms and nodded, "Okay, but no telling dad about how he's my dad, too! Mom said dad can't know that! She said it would hurt his feelings."

"…Uh, yeah, what would you call him in front of your dad if they were in the same room?"

"That wouldn't happen." Jenna said firmly. "Ghosts hide when they don't need to be seen."

"And what if he _did_ need to see him, though? Then what would you call him?"

"…I dunno, he'd tell me what, or mom would."

"Oh, okay." He smiled and headed over to the three others. "Race, can you take a look at these, I think you've met him, but I'm not sure."

The lilt in Jonny's voice conveyed far more meaning than anything, he pulled out his camera pen and snapped a picture of the two images. "Hmm, he looks an awful lot like Phil, but no I can't say I have." He said in a louder voice for Jenna's sake.

"Oh, okay, just checking. Let me bring these back to Jenna."

"Okay, kiddo, but it's time to go soon so say goodbye."

"Yes sir." Jonny returned to Jenna with the two photos and handed them back to her. "Jenna, I'll visit you later." He said politely, "Maybe next time we can play _checkers_."

"I love checkers! Okay! Bye-bye!" She flopped the teddy bear in front of her and had it wave goodbye too. "If you see my mom, tell her she should come by soon. I miss her."

Jonny's smiled faltered, "…If I see her I sure will."

-Chapter 5 JQ-

In the hallway, Jonny turned to face his dad, as they traded information, Jonny could feel the energy sap out of him, what Jenna had said about the bad men Allen tortured made him particularly squeamish. Who had those people been, and why did he do it?

Who else had he done that to, and who did he do worse things to?

Benton put a hand on his son's shoulder, he didn't like the distant look his son's eyes housed.

Race cleared his throat, "So it looks like Arquette works with Ezekiel Rage, from what Phil said and from what Jonny's said—it looks like Arquette really did kill her, but was that on her urging or Rage's?"

"Why would Rage order that?" Jonny asked mutely, "…he's too direct, he doesn't send lackeys to kill people, he sends them to _grab them_ so _he_ can."

"…You make a strong case." Race said, hoping to pull Jonny more from himself, "But Claire wasn't some agent, she was some agent's ex-wife. Even Zeke would have a hard time on that level of hypocrisy."

Jonny's hands curled around his waist, "Dad, that photo looked like it was fairly recent, what do you think changed?" He shivered, "Alex said her husband and son went missing recently too, but they also thought they were dead… maybe… maybe Rick put them in witness protection? Maybe he's trying to get Giselle out?"

"And Arquette thinks she's being turned into an agent, which from Rage's view-point would be treasonous."

"Or is it just because she's not following their brainwashing? Is she even _like_ that? Is there really any evidence to say what she is or isn't?"

Benton put a hand on Jonny's shoulder, "I don't think it makes much of a difference, if she wants out of their death cult, she might have limited ways to do it."

"Arquette said something about Catskills, I think there's another cell there." Jonny frowned again, he felt his body shaking.

"Let's regroup and look at this together—as a team." Benton smiled softly at Jonny, the blond turned his head up to smile back.

"Bannon—one more thing!" Phil called back, the three men turned to face the approaching figure.

Race stepped off the sidewalk.

"Race, we'll get the car." Benton offered, steering Jonny toward the street as Race pivoted.

"What is it, Phil?"

Phil pulled Race over to the side and handed him a small driver, "Give this to Darren, he… he's never going to forgive me for keeping it from him for so long. I'm sorry for my cowardice in asking you to do my dirty work."

Race clapped his friend's shoulder, "Phil, your idea of dirty work has always been far over-stated, what's on the drive?"

"…Pa's letters from his estate. I saved it from a certain executor of the will that thought burning them was more apropos. He has to confront this head on if he's going to be of any use to you three."

Race laughed, "Cat's cradle, that's a tall order. I'll get it to him, but I can't guarantee he'll have an open mind."

Phil laughed, "Oh, that stubborn little brat won't, but it's for work, so he'll read it anyway."

-Chapter 5 JQ-

In the freshly emptied house, Darren returned to reading the dossier his daughter had painstakingly built over several weeks.

This intel, a vast majority of it was news to him and he didn't like that implication at all. Why the hell would Phil have been holding out on him, and _how_ the hell did his daughter stumble into such a trove?

And then his earth shook, Venus had been trying to figure out how Arquette fit in from the information Jonny had given her, and then from last night, it painted a picture rather nicely, but if that was the case, why did Gustav and Pierre Arquette show up on the _other_ network? He took to scrolling through the secured browser. What the actual fuck did the CIA have to do with them and more importantly why?

Why had Arquette been to Argentina, for that matter?

And with that ball of string to unravel, he fell into the answer. Arquette wasn't a free agent at all. She was with Rage and they were playing both sides.

As he pondered on what that meant about Gaia, and why the CIA had any involvement with them at _all_ , he heard Venus at the door.

"…Dad?"

He closed his eyes and lowered his computer screen before opening them and turning to look at her, "Hey sweetie, what is it?"

She shuffled over to the couch and took a seat, waiting for him.

"I really need to read through this, is it urgent?" He asked tiredly.

Venus shook her head, her words belying that very message, "I made a connection between Rage and Argentina, but it doesn't make sense… why is Dr. Arquette following _him_ around if she's been looking for _her_ daughter and Gaia has her?"

Darren's eyes went wide. It was clicking into place far too quickly now. "Because she's a damn ruse… _shit_ , we need to contact the others—how do they tie into Argentina?"

"…That's where their arms dealer is. Dad, they manufactured enough sarin to put a state to sleep. Permanent sleep. It gets better, you know how to reverse the effects of sarin?"

He eyed her suspiciously, "Not particularly, I'm not _that_ advised in medicine or chemistry for that matter."

"Atropine, isn't that the same thing Dr. Yuan was calling for Jonny to get ASAP?"

"Oh _fuck_ , Gaia had her called in to figure out what the hell they've been working on?"

Venus lowered her head, "Looks like it… and Arquette set the snare to make Gaia look like turn-coats instead of grey work."

He rubbed his forehead. "You mean to tell me that they're Grey Hats?"

"…Maybe… or maybe they have an inside guy, too… or it could just be they don't want to watch the world burn, they just want to make it pay."

"Princess, how _did_ you make that connection to Argentina?" He gave her an admonishing look.

"…I… kind have sort have piggybacked your connection into the CIA's mainframe and went fishing… like Uncle Phil told me to."

Darren let out a low, slow breath, "And _when_ did he tell you that?"

She frowned, "He sent a text message a few minutes ago."

"No he sure as hell did not." Darren scowled, "Venus, he's not leaving Jenna's side, his phone's _off_ , I tried to call him earlier."

She frowned harder. "…But it _says_ it's from _his_ number—who'd piggyback off _his_ phone?"

"...Bring it here, I want to see if he'll get something if we reply _back_."

"What should I say?" Venus asked, phone at the ready.

He shoved out his hand, "I'm going to ask your uncle if he knows who killed Claire." Thumbing in the message, he hit send.

Within seconds, the phone chimed back, "Get out of the house now."

He powered off the laptop while loading it up into its carrier, "Sweetie, get the go bags, I'll get the weapon kits."

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Race returned to the curb-side mildly surprised by the absence of Benton and Jonny and the car. It had been a ten-minute hallway conversation, ample time to find the car and head back up.

The sounds of tires squealing and gunshots, however, quickly changed that perspective. He pulled out his holstered glock and dove toward cover, taking in the details as a car whipped around the embankment from SL1 onto the ground level and the exit.

He was shocked to see Jonny in the back seat of a pewter Subaru, struggling against the goon who undoubtedly had made the grab, the front-seat passenger was laying cover fire but clearly aiming high while the driver sped around the parking deck to the exit.

He focused on the license plate and shot at the tires for good measure, but the car had already made progress on clearing the deck by time it all hit him.

Benton wasn't in the car.

Once the car was out of range, blasting through the turnstile and shattering the drop-guard gate, Race raced down the stairs to where they'd parked.

The mostly empty deck was scorched and smoking. "Oh Christ! Benton!" He called out, rushing to clear the scene.

Benton rubbed at his forehead, his ears still ringing as he staggered next to a blown out vehicle three spaces down from where they had parked. By how the scorch-marks looked, it was obvious the boxy Subaru had been between the now destroyed vehicle and their rental, Race's mind compiled it all, envisioning the scene as he imagined it.

Jonny had walked up to the car faster than Benton while he fiddled for the keys—suddenly the car exploded in a small blast and knocked both of them stunned, then some goon hurried Jonny into the back of the get-away car and sped off leaving Benton in the dust.

He was checking his friend over head to toe, he _looked_ okay, stunned but not seriously hurt, he must've barely been in the blast zone. "Benton! Are you hurt?"

Benton watched Race's lips move, blinked as he tried to disentangle the noises he heard into logical sound and tinnitus. His head was throbbing, "What happened…?" He shook his head slowly, that stung, as the shock-wave seemed to blast past him, he asked in a panic, "Jonny! Where's Jonny?!"

"Some goons grabbed him, I got the plate number and already dialed it in. Are you _alright_? Can you go on?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation there, but then again, his bloody leg could be off and he'd have said the same thing, Race knew from first-hand experience.

"I'll check the car." Race was not surprised to find out that it was in fact disabled, two tires had been deflated with a puncture of a screwdriver. He punched the hood of the car, furious.

They'd been played. That's why Arquette didn't go after Jenna, loose end his _ass_ , she was bait and they walked right into it!

He punched it again for good measure. Suddenly, there wasn't a doubt in his mind of who sprung Ali, and that only made him want to hit _someone_ , and harder. Race dialed Darren's line.

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Jonny looked at Dr. Arquette with a sense of lassitude that cut to the quick. His eyes scanned the room he found himself in, groggily, as he came around from whatever henchman #3 had smothered him with, he thought it smelt vaguely of ether, but he was hardly a connoisseur for knock-out gases. He supposed with as much practice as he got, he probably could be better at that come to think of it. His head ached dully, he really hoped he wouldn't get a migraine from this. The bite of too-tight zipties forced him back to his senses.

Arquette pulled the gag from his mouth, letting it drop around his neck like a noose.

He let out a shaky breath, "Why?"

She let out a laugh, "Why, Joannene, I 'ave simply decided to tell you about my research now. Ees this no longer what you wanted to hear?"

His arms and legs quivered, he could feel eyes raking across him and only could assume that monster was behind him staring. He tried to hide that motion, he had to be brave and push through, "Well, I didn't think I'd hear it strapped down to a _chair_ … would you be so kind as to untie me and _then_ tell me about it?"

She let off a coy laugh, "Alas, that will not do, eet ees to be this way if you are to hear of it at all."

He closed his eyes as if considering it, mulled it over, "I have a bit of a headache, can we keep it to English?"

"But of course I can compromise on this trifling thing." She pet his face, and his skin crawled for it. "I 'ave been developing a means to disperse a perfume. Eet ees the most beautiful of perfumes, with eet, the wicked shall perish and the pure shall live."

"…And who decides who's pure and who's wicked?" Jonny asked, he'd heard a speech like this a time or two.

"Ah, but even before that, there ees a test, one you and you alone may face."

His eyes narrowed, that was off-script, "Go on…?"

"You see, there 'as been this argument that we are playing god, and that this ees not for us to decide. Our counterparts in Gaia have been _most_ helpful but they have corrupted so many of our flock that eet has become tres cumbersome to keep down the een-fighting, so I 'ave proposed this solution… our most corrupted man will sit with a kind-hearted child of pure soul and worldly experiences een a room destined to alter the fate of many. Eef you were to falter and walk the path of the wicked, well then, these people will die. Eef on the other hand you offer forgiveness to this man, he controls _your_ fate, but the others will not meet the sword this day."

"…So either way, I'm going to die?" Jonny asked bluntly. "You're just asking me if I'll die alone or take others with me?"

"No! That ees not at all what I 'ave said! There ees a tortuous path to your own salvation, as ees the peril for all men's souls… I cannot tell you this path, for the test ees on you to resolve, though you are most fortunate een that your test will conclude een an obvious way." She smiled smugly on that last point.

He kept his face neutral, not particularly enjoying the conversation. "And that obvious way would be-? I mean, besides death. Is it a specific kind, besides horrific?" He asked dejectedly, it _was_ growing into a migraine, just what he needed. "You've been lying to me this whole time, about Gaia, your daughter, everything—haven't you been?"

"That ees not true. Gaia stole my Giselle away, and even after Rage in his compassion performed a missionary miracle and converted these undeserving _heathens_ , she still was impure. And then my Pierre and Gustav vaneeshed…" She shook her head, "Ah, yes you must be most curious of your tribulation, but first, let me alleviate your pain, there ees no need for an added handicap."

Jonny scowled when she injected him with a syringe of an unknown agent into his hand. His pupils dilated within seconds as the pain in his head subsided just near as instantly. "What… was that…?"

"Medicine for your headache," she patted his cheek and cut free the zipties that held his ankles and wrists bound. His body flopped toward the side. "And enough extra for you to rest for but a few minutes while we set the stage for humanity's test, of course. When you awaken, you will be in purgatory, though eet may feel like hell."

As his eyes rolled up, he caught sight of a control panel and Ali, though he was just outside the room, he couldn't tell if the unknown drug was making him feel nauseated or that thought alone.

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Race looked through the inventory of one of the two duffel bags Darren had shoved in his trunk to his zippy little Z3. "I called in reinforcements, but a siege always works so much better in low numbers for that first wave."

He shook his head, he couldn't disagree there, "How in tarnation do you have military-grade gear _in your house_?"

Darren shrugged, "There's perks to being the boss, and I'll have you know, this gear exceeds military ratings. Our boys don't get plasma guns." He smirked as he pulled out a ray-gun that Quest himself held the patent to. "I assume you'd be comfortable with one of your own?"

Benton took the gun and checked its charge, "There isn't anything in that bag I don't think I could tackle."

Darren laughed, "Well, there _is_ a bazooka…"

"…Darren, he's shot one of those before, too. And disarmed a nuclear reactor about to go for that matter."

"Ah shit, Phil didn't tell me about that one, here, I'll give your Betty Bam-a-lam, too." He handed Benton a Smith & Wesson M&P Pro.

"…A 9mm? What do you want me to do, swat flies with it?" Benton asked, almost annoyed by the gesture.

"I'll have you know that's Venus's favorite for competitive shooting, it's also one of the fastest with the least recoil, you hit a person twice in the head and I can promise you whether it was a .45 or a 9mm, it won't fucking matter, dead is dead. Besides, larger caliber rounds produce more sounds and I think we really should be going the stealth route."

"Hardly a convincing argument when you have a grenade launcher in the bag, too." Benton reminded him.

Darren smirked, "I don't bring all my toys in with me, but I make sure if I need it, it's nearby."

"Dad, you have my kit?"

He frowned at her, "…" As he looked her up and down for the eighth time, Venus cleared her throat.

"You want me in there unarmed because _that_ would be less awful? Is that what you're thinking?"

"No, I'm trying to think which gun won't beat the shit out of you, sweetie. The Baretta might do the trick, but you know her risk of jamming in a rapid fire situation…"

"I'm taking in my knives too." She offered in defiance, "And if you even _think_ of asking me not to—"

Darren shook his head, "The smoke bombs too. When we get in there, Venus—you and Race will be on the lookout for Rage, Benton and I will go after Gaia, and between the four of us find Jonny as quickly as possible."

"Wait—why am I with Race and you with _him_?" She gestured, she felt bad but simply couldn't figure out the right way to address her birth father. He hardly fit the 'dad' option to her, 'Dr. Quest' seemed way too formal, and 'Benton' was so crunchy-granola she would rather puke.

"Because Gaia has a nerve agent and Dr. Quest will know how to disrupt production for good, and Race knows how Ezekiel Rage operates and he needs backup with technical skills who can do a damn job, or do you want me to bench you because you can't pull your damn weight?"

She looked down, "…No sir."

"Then focus, it's the best plan we have for now. You'll go up front and scout our in-roads. Exfiltration is priority for these two, but you and I are finishers, we each have a radio, use them, keep each other posted. Venus, Race is your CO on this one and I _mean_ it. He says jump you damn well do it. Benton, I'm sure you're interested in exactly 0% of that, but I need to know I can trust you to do what I ask—I won't ask for a stupid reason, I can promise you that."

"Race and I have been in these situations before. I know what I need to do and I won't be a liability, you'll figure that out for yourself soon enough."

Darren gave a curt nod. "Alright, then I'll switch out our rides." He pulled into a mechanic's garage that had several motorcycles off to the side before walking into the garage. Several minutes later he came out with three helmets in hand and three sets of keys, his own mirror-coated helmet on.

Venus's pout intensified, "…I'm not going to get to drive, am I?"

Race let out a laugh, "You can't even drive a car yet and you want to take on a motorcycle?"

She rolled her eyes as her dad handed her the smallest of the helmets, "Not an extra one for Jonny?"

"That's in the side-car already." Darren offered back.

"Race, I _can_ drive a car, a motorcycle, and a mother fucking helicopter to name a few things. I just can't do it _legally_ on public roads. But I can do it on tracks and I can do it better than you think." Venus walked back to the stock of bikes and waited for Race to catch up.

"Damn, Snow, showing off your way with the girls, huh? And here I thought you knew how to deal with the stubborn types." Darren smirked, he gave Benton a wink. "Benton, have you ridden a motorcycle before? If not, you'll take up the one with a sidecar, they're more stable."

"I'd prefer that one anyway."

Darren nodded more solemnly, "He's the first priority, Benton. We'll find him _first_."

The redhead nodded at the platitude, but he knew damn well how I-1 worked, things were first priority until they weren't. He trusted Race and himself to prioritize Jonny, and that's all he really had. For the first time he had to wonder how often Darren had deprioritized other children over the years though.

There had to have been times he had to cut losses, and considering what he worked with, _who_ he worked with…

"We better get a move on it, are we sure the location is right?"

Benton nodded, "As long as Jonny's still wearing his watch, we have his coordinates."

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Pushing up from the floor, Jonny's head was swimming but it _wasn't_ aching. "Where…" he looked around the small room filled with control panels. His breath hitched as the air-sealed door opened and Ali and Ezekiel Rage strutted in.

He quickly found himself pressing back against the opposing wall, the memories of what Ali had done to him crashed over him in waves of panic. If he didn't focus he'd drown in them and worse- whatever Ali had in store for him _now_.

"Awake at last, Mr. Quest," Ezekiel Rage smiled as his voice boomed in the small room. "My associate explained in the briefest of ways what you are tasked with. Allow me to make _introductions_."

Jonny's fists shook in heated anger, as if Rage didn't know _exactly_ how thoroughly introduced Jonny was to this _pig_.

"This is your day to _shine,_ Jonny. Everyone is counting on you, the golden boy—the _prodigal son_ , in this room is all you need to disable my bomb, of course, I can't just _let_ you interfere, so you'll have to earn it." He smiled politely, his leathery face stretched tightly from under his skeletal mask. "This is Ali Hussein, he joined camp after Gaia used him up, he helped orchestrate this great purge and has most willingly offered himself up as a sacrifice in this final test for humanity… a brave soul indeed, but he is not a pure heart. He has viciously killed and has appetites of the flesh."

Jonny could feel Ali's damn _appetite_ exude from him in a sleaze of foulness radiating from his groin and eyes as he devoured Jonny's image. He knew he had to control his fear, he knew _intimately_ just how much fear mattered to Ali. He crossed his arms loosely across his hips in an act of indifference.

"But he doesn't wish to die like a dog, and I can assure you, the fate of those if you fail, will be just that."

His eyes returned to the round sunglasses that covered Ezekiel's dead eyes. "And how exactly is that?"

"Why, a perfume of death, while there is an antidote for sub-lethal exposure, I can assure you, those within range will far exceed that threshold, while we few chosen people have all we need to survive."

"…So my task is to diffuse your bomb?" Jonny looked at him in confusion. "She implied I was dead either way. What am I missing, Zeke?"

"Of course, there's more than _one_ bomb. This room contains the remote for the bomb that will destroy the neighboring townships in a 50 mile radius, but our friend Mr. Hussein also has his own bomb on a dead-man switch. If you kill him you doom everyone, if you don't kill him I have on good authority he feels you owe him a great debt."

Jonny's eyes felt wet, he blinked back that tremulous fear before it could engulf him. "I never knew you to be _cruel_ , Zeke…"

"I'm anything _but that_ , Jonny. I have given you all the tools you need to save the _world_ , is that not a benevolent gesture? And for the son of the infamous Dr. Quest, a bomb like this is but child's play."

Jonny gave a caustic glance at Ali Hussein, "Did he tell you how he knows me? Is that what you discussed while plotting your prison break?"

Zeke smiled passively, "You stole away his freedom, what more is there to say?"

"…He stole more than _that_ first."

Rage laughed, "Then you are well on your way to give the earth a rebirth in a perfume of death." Rage slid a knife toward Jonny. "And if you should kill him, you will experience that same sweet perfume."

As he exited the air-sealed door, Jonny called after him, "Rage! I never thought you were a _monster_ before… but this—you can't _pity_ a person who does this!"

The morphed, demonic face Rage turned on him made his insides feel hollow.

"So too go the wicked in the vapors of their own sin; to lay their heads in the beds of lies and deceit, so it is written so says the book of Rage."

"Damn it, Rage! He's a—" Jonny turned to glare at Ali as he stepped closer, he quickly grabbed the knife from the floor, no point in giving up what little advantage he may have. "You signed up to die that way? Do you have _any_ idea what sarin poisoning is like?"

Ali scoffed, "I'm dead either way, I'd rather have _fun_ first…"

"So you don't." Jonny pushed onward, he wasn't going to let this man do this to him again. "…Ali, if I _don't_ diffuse this, you're dead. You'll die feeling as if your skin is burning and peeling off, but it won't be. Your lungs will feel tight, you'll feel weak, you'll convulse, you'll die in your own shit and piss, probably aspirating on your own vomit. It's not a dignified corpse."

"…Why should I care what my corpse looks like? Hmm?" Ali laughed.

"…You're right, that won't matter to you, what with the excruciating pain you'll feel. Then again, it might be the first time you ever experienced _real_ pain. You usually dole it out, how often has it ever been dealt back to you? Was your first time when my dad and Race whooped your ass?" Jonny smiled, "Or maybe it was when Allen peeled off each of your nails and poured salt on them? Because sarin's still a _lot_ worse."

Ali's eyes narrowed.

"Of course, you still have me as a hostage in here once that's diffused… but you'll have an actual chance of survival. A roach like you, that's what you crave, isn't it? A way _out_ , that freedom to live…?"

"I'm listening, boy."

"I'll deactivate the bomb in here, you just keep back until that's done and then we'll discuss that next hurdle."

Ali reached forward to pet Jonny's face. "Make it worth my _while_."

Jonny shoved Ali back hard, "I need to be able to _focus_ to diffuse that bomb, if you hurt me we're both as good as dead."

He approached again, "It's been a long time since I've had companionship, almost three years… and while I can wait for the pay-off, how about some foreplay? A gesture of good faith." He laughed as he grabbed Jonny by the throat, his other hand fished under Jonny's shirt as he leaned toward his face and licked his cheek. Eyes closing tightly, Jonny elbowed him under his ribs.

"I said _no_."

Ali slammed him back again, "And I don't care about what you say." His hand fished lower, the grip on Jonny's neck went lax to cup his jaw, he leaned in and kissed him roughly, taking pleasure in the feeling of skin against skin. After a long moment his hand receded. Jonny could feel his knees buckling in panic. He punched Ali squarely in the nose.

"Do it again and I'll jam this knife in my carotid and leave you to it. I _won't_ be dying like that." Jonny threatened, and honestly, that was his only ace he was holding.

Ali flitted his wrist away indifferently, he took to watching Jonny as the teen made hasty work to look over the control panel.

He blew out a sigh of relief that Rage hadn't lied, it really _was_ a functional control panel which meant the charge wires had to be nearby too. Not that he was thrilled to have so much of his body exposed in the presence of that rapist bastard, he was still glad he at least didn't have to _look_ at him.

He could _hear_ what he was doing, though, and that was awful enough.

With a shake of his head, he returned his focus to the underbelly of the control panel, Rage was right, Jonny knew his way around a control panel, especially in frying one, but he didn't _want_ to fry this one. He was going to need it for his plan to work, but he still needed to deactivate the bomb and make it inoperable. In the back of his mind he wondered where the dead-man switch was. He wasn't holding it in his hand—was it even activated yet, hell, did he even really _have_ one? He had to pause what he was doing, his hands were shaking too much. Taking a deep breath, he pushed those feelings away. He had to do this, innocent people—well, _more_ innocent people might die if he didn't stop these maniacs. What he also needed to figure out was a way to stall once he had this problem at hand. Closing his eyes, he hoped his dad wasn't hurt, oh god, what if he was? Or worse?

Sure Race would still look for him, he _knew_ that, but still… he and his dad had _just_ gotten back to where they'd been all those years ago. His eyes caught sight of something peculiar, he pulled up further under the control panel, there was another detonator. That bastard! Rage was just doing this to torture him!

His eyes narrowed, that small piece of fabric had been what made him even see the second unit, this one had a counter—and a note? Before he could think better of it, he grabbed it and read through it.

'There's an access port to the fill room under this unit if you can get through it, you can get out of there.'

Jonny swallowed thickly, he felt a hand wrap around his ankle, a jolt shot up his entire body as he kicked blindly at the hand before trying to scramble under the control panel.

"Are you crazy?! I'm working on electrical wires! You'll fry us both!" He shot quickly, praying silently that the madman would believe him.

The hand released from his leg. He shoved the note in between a crease to hide it. He was out of time, he bought a few minutes at most, but then this was going to get _ugly_.

Jonny clipped the cables to the first detonator and was answered with the lights going dark on him. He closed his eyes and went to work on the backup system. Within minutes it was also deactivated, within minutes, Ali's hand was back groping for him. This time, they found both his ankles and hoisted him out from under the control panel.

Jonny hooked his arms around a sturdy beam in the construct. Using a bulk of his upper-body strength he locked in a stale-mate. Ali's hands could reach as far as his lower thighs, the feeling of fingernails digging in through his jeans was unpleasant, but he could think of _worse_ things.

His arm fished forward looking for anything he could reach that he could use to pull himself up further under the panel, if he could get past the L-bend, he could hole off and as long as that bastard wasn't a complete nihilist, _maybe_ wait him out.

-Chapter 5 JQ-

At the precipice of the sizeable stone yard, Venus and Race looked over the schematics Hadji and Jessie had forwarded them.

In the dusty earth, Venus drew out a rough plan with her finger as to how to circle around. The thick concrete was messing with the watch's transmitter, only putting out a rough range of where Jonny was, and also making the radio transmission shoddy at best, the closer they got, the better the reception though, and from what they were overhearing, that was _very bad_.

"We can use the signal strength as a homing beacon, we know the rough layout, and those air vents? They're the older style, it'll be a tough fit, but I can still squeeze into them." Venus mentioned.

"…And then you'll double back for me?"

Venus nodded, "Yep, that's the plan." She grinned, "I'm not like my dad, I don't do the breadcrumb trail thing."

Brown eyes narrowed, he somehow doubted that, "Can you get a count of guards while you do that?"

She nodded, "Easily enough." Venus looked at her cell phone to read off the text message from Hadji, the update anything but positive, they still hadn't been able to transmit _to_ Jonny to let him know they were coming.

"Race, Jonny said that Rage thinks Jessie is _his_ daughter Carla…?" He nodded to answer her question, "I have a fail-safe, then. A worst-case scenario tie breaker…"

The white-haired man let out a sigh, he expected that much, "Alright, go for it."

After a fast set of texts, Venus handed Race her cell phone for him to read up. "Okay, game on. By the way, you drive a motorcycle like a little old lady on her way to church."

Speeding through the texts, Race shot the retreating teen a glare for the pot-shot. "If you'd held _on_ , I could have driven faster."

"No way, I'm not a hugger, haven't you heard that?"

"Here, take your phone back." He handed it to her just as the vent cover was dismantled.

"Thank you." She shoved it into her pocket, her grey-blue jeans had a relaxed fit and the miracle of deep pockets, her tactical 3/4 sleeved, bowl-necked black t-shirt had reinforced leather straps over her flanks, her shoulders, and elbows, her above-clothe holster tucked behind her back toward the right, while her concealed holster tucked flat at her left hip and knife-set on her right, a pocketful of smoke bombs just below them, her black Adidas sneakers were scuffed from the wear something she normally couldn't abide by that she let slide if only because she used the shoes when scaling and scuffing was inevitable in such tasks. She clipped one last surprise to her left calf, just enough charge to blow a few doors if she needed to.

With a shimmy, she made the vent opening with four inches to spare, just enough space to work her arms through.

Once she was a good fifteen meters in, she took a shaky breath, like hell she'd own up to it, but it hurt like hell to use her abs so aggressively. She looked through the slits in the vent at the first opening. There were a solid ten thugs just busying themselves with mindless cult work, she was surprised no one was stirring up the kool-aid. Continuing onward, she shot Race a text to signal the first set of numbers. 'Donner party of 10 and no one brought a covered dish.'

By the second vent, she had two options, left and right, left would take her along the outer wall of the building while the right would take her more central. There were three more creeps just minding their own lackey business, one of them was polishing off an impressively illegal automated rifle, the submachine gun definitely violated at least 3 local laws for NY gun ownership, 4 if she counted them as a felon, which kidnapping was indeed a felony.

She shot off another message to Race telling him her plan to head right first, now more than a third of the way into the building. 'Three to party, turning right on red.'

The odd way the vents were diverted after another twenty meters made her take pause. The signal was definitely pinging now, he had to be close, but she didn't see any obvious entry point from birds-eye view.

'I've got a fix on his location, reversing out. Weird feng-shui shit here.' She sent off.

By time she wriggled back to the side entrance, she felt like her stomach was on _fire_. She sent another text as she was reversing through. 'Is my drop clear? I couldn't maneuver a Uey.'

Race tossed two pebbles at the vent to signal it was clear.

Kicking the screen off, she let her lower body drop then scuttled out the rest of the way. Her left hand found her waist as she sucked in air.

"Only 13?" Race asked carefully, the kid looked grey. He put a hand on her shoulder, "You need a minute?"

"We don't have a minute. 13 on the route I just took, I didn't veer left, there's probably more."

"Yeah, well, it's just like roaches. Flip a light switch and what was once an empty kitchen becomes anything but."

"…You and I have _very_ different kitchens." Venus said in open discomfort.

The sound chuckle that floated over her gave her just enough of a break to be able to regain her breath, "I didn't say it was _my_ kitchen. Ten people is a lot for a single breech point."

"I concur, but I think we can get in through this way and then curve around them, the three getting ready for the dance, however, I think we'll have to take to task. That looked like the only port to call."

"Alright, I'll go in first- high and fast, you roll in within 3 seconds low and stealth assuming there's still only three. Whoever finishes first can get the third on their punch-card."

Venus nodded tiredly, she had the suspicion Race was going to pick up that second dance partner.

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Darren and Benton looked over the holographic projection from Benton's wrist watch, Darren in silent amazement and greatly curious how much that kind of Timex cost.

"Team 2 will have covered this route here…" Darren pointed along the vent shaft snaking it toward the center of the building at the fork and then swiveling back around, angling toward the left vent then back to point of breech. "…so we need to cover this pathway, obviously the vents won't work for us, but _that_ looks like a storage closet. You know that wall drain-o you made? I've got myself a few canisters of it. Not going to lie, I can see why people would want to raid _your_ supply closet."

"Well, that's kind of you to say. Believe it or not, I don't store my inventions like an inventory for B&Es."

Darren's eyebrows waggled a shrug, "Well maybe you should, make it easier on yourself that way. Today I feel like a burnt sienna sweater and a death ray."

Benton's mustache tilted upward as he smirked back in a lopsided gesture, "You're a bit of a schmuck."

"Oh I've been called way worse and deserved it." He gave his own confident smile, "So let's see if they'd like some girl-scout cookies."

"Is that another club activity I need to schedule in?" Benton quipped, he took the canister from Darren and applied it liberally to the thick brick veneer, stepping back once the spray began to erode through the stony exterior.

"Nah, you're safe. They asked her not to come back after… well, well I'll say this, at least she didn't make anyone radioactive like that one boy-scout did, but the property damage from her little project was enough where _I'd_ have asked them to ask her to not come back if they hadn't already reached that decision."

"Don't tell me it was another bomb? She isn't actually an _arsonist_ is she?"

Darren swallowed a laugh, "No, she's not an arsonist. She turned a lady's front yard and porch a luminescent blue-green after a bioreactor she worked on got rapidly depressurized when someone bumped into it. I personally think she was sabotaged, but I also personally think she made a projectile that wrecked a lady's car and chances at Home and Garden showing for a solid three months."

Benton let out a low whistle, "The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, when I was a lad I turned a front yard blue with a goop that was non-Newtonian. My parents were less than impressed by the gesture."

"Oh, and you're unhappy that Jonny's not into _chemistry_ …"

They approached the hole carefully, both edging in without making contact with the corrosive material. "I'm incredibly proud of my son's accomplishments. I never realized how gifted of a painter he is, though I probably was being prying. He keeps them at the school. He says there's going to be a viewing in November and that he was tasked with making 10 pieces, the ones I've seen so far were amazing."

Mind back on the task, Benton was no longer envisioning sunflowers on a wide canvas but a room full of weapons and ammunition.

"Jack-pot," Darren let out a low howl, "That goo will work on metal the same way, yeah?"

"Yes, a stockpile like this, how many people would you say that would supply?"

"…Fifty in a pinch, thirty if they're veteran and carry multiples."

Benton nodded, "Check the door, we won't want to be in here when these start to dissolve."

With a nod, Darren approached the door and felt it give at the knob, he dropped to the ground to look for shadows or feet, seeing neither, he pressed up and opened the door. "Now would be as good of a time as any."

Giving his own head-bob, Benton sprayed the corrosive goo over the piles of weapons and ammunition then followed Darren out the door. They edged around the spacious room surprised at how empty it was.

"…This is a pretty big space, but I can't imagine he'd really leave it unguarded like this. You don't think they've been diverted, do you?" Darren asked cautiously. He touched his earpiece, "Team 2, report?"

"Team 1, we're in. Count is up to 17. Three down, no eyes on Rage, Chameleon, or the Arquettes, we _do_ have a lock on Jonny and are moving in to exfiltration."

"Alright, send the known location, we'll rendezvous once we clear our partition."

"Sent." As Race spoke, Benton's watch pinged, a fixed image of the holographic map showed the pin-point.

"Team 2 out." Race clicked off his radio so he could keep scanning the perimeter as Venus zip-tied a fourth dancer.

She looked grey again, "Okay, help me drag them out of the lime light, would ya?"

"Yeah, take a breather and I'll do the manual lifting." Race offered, dragging two of the unconscious, gagged, guards to a corner then returning for the other two and made a similar trip to the same corner. "You look like hell, what's wrong?"

Her hand reflexively curved around her waist, "It's exactly what you think it is, but I can get this done. I'm running at 60% at best though." They made their way down the corridor toward the signal.

"…60?" He asked cynically.

"…Alright, 40, but I'm trying damn it." She grimaced. "It's up ahead, we need to hurry, he's going through hell in there; I can trudge through being _tired_."

Race offered her a tight-lipped frown, "You're going to wait here and keep guard. I'll go in."

"…That's an awful plan. We know he's sealed in, we know there's _one_ person with him, and we highly suspect there's a bomb somewhere. I should be working _that_ angle, not trying to be a fucking _bouncer_."

"Damn it how many people do you think we _can_ rescue right now?" Race seethed.

"All of them." She growled back, "I might be running sub-optimal, but that doesn't mean I'll accept half-assed work! I'll work in my limits but I'm going to work."

Race clenched his jaw, "Report in _regularly_." He _knew_ she and Darren would flake on their first chance, bypassing the top priorities for their own bullshit, he just wasn't sure why it pissed him off as much as it did. He hadn't really trusted them, had he?

"From a sealed room—are you serious?" Venus's lip rose in an unimpressed snarl.

"You want to go _in_?" Race gawked, "I thought you were trying to track down the _bomb_?"

"…Well no shit it'll be in there with him, its skullduggery and its cruelty. From my encounter with Gaia, that seems to be their modus operandi, and your buddy Rage seems to be the same ilk."

"...Alright, we'll _both_ go in."

"You'd be the better bouncer, you know."

"Not happening." Race nodded toward the entry, "And we're wasting too much time."

Venus smirked, damn it was easy to steer him to her own objectives. "Well then, let's make like a Mr. Baba and open says me." She said as she cracked the lock on the door and gestured toward it for Race to open.

Race muscled open the o-ring to breech the door, while heavy, the door was giving, he had to give her credit for that. "Ali is _dangerous_ , Venus, don't drop your guard."

The cocky laugh she breathe out reminded him of a certain 8 year old, covered in welts, dusting off and walking right back up to the tallest and meanest of the foster kids only to wail him in the nose and demonstrate just how much _one_ good shot mattered. Darren had done that in front of a crowd to get the kid to lay off some of the youngest and newest kids at the home at the time.

"That's an _order_."

"Oh yes _sir_." She said in dripping sarcasm, she drew a blade. "I've got _plenty_ in the tank for this."

He thought he should tell her to take the high road, but he sure as hell wasn't planning on it either.

Pulling the door back, Venus dove in a hedgehog roll to reach the opposite corner and then righted herself, Race rushed to the left, the side Venus had left open for him as they surrounded Ali as he pulled at Jonny's legs.

"Get _off_ me!" Jonny threw another kick as he pulled at the further bar. Ali yanked on him causing him to lose ground, his hand snaked further up Jonny's leg, curving toward his inner thigh. Race responded with a swift kick to the son of a bitch's teeth, whipping him off the kid.

The momentum was enough to make Jonny lose his grip entirely, he peered through the narrow opening and saw a new set of legs. He let out a relieved sigh, reached further and continued his work on the second detonator. He wished Jess and Hadji were around, or at least on a computer! He could short out their set-up, sure, but that was no worm or kill-virus. Jessie had a version of ransom-ware that would seize a system entirely with a tight encryption.

"Thanks for the save, Race…" Jonny called from under the panel, "I've got my hands full, there's a detonator, it's _almost_ done."

The lights on the console blackened.

"Got it!" Jonny shimmied out from the crawl space. As his eyes landed on Race's, he felt his resolve shake, Ali was moaning, "…Ali, where's the dead-man switch?"

The man began laughing through his anguish, " _What's_ that?"

Venus curved her blade and sliced it over the man's shirt splitting it before he even realized she'd made the motion. "Oh, I can look for it. It might get _messy_ though. Maybe I should check under his _fingernails_ first?" The blade slung at his hand, stopping just above his thumb.

"My shoe! It's in my _shoe_ , it's not activated…"

"Take off your shoe then, dumbass." Venus taunted, she returned her ministrations to his hand, the blade made fast lines just above him to demonstrate what she _could_ do, _would_ do if need be.

He kicked his shoe off and kicked it toward Race. Race saw the small switch and the charge.

"Well, I'll be, he's telling the truth."

Venus locked eyes on the man with a red mouth, beside that he didn't look particularly rough, "I'm not buying that, he's holding out on me. This little piggy went to the market—"

Jonny winced as he watched his sister slash Ali's arm drawing a thin line of red. He turned into Race's side to shield himself from the awful look on Ali's face as the man _still_ locked eyes on his form.

"Come on, kiddo, let's get you out of here." Race suggested, a strong arm slung around Jonny, he could feel the boy shivering. "Venus, _leave it_."

"And _this_ little piggy stayed home…" She sliced his hand deep enough to catch a tendon, ignoring him.

Ali howled as he punched at the girl, focus leaving the boy for the first time since they'd intruded, Venus leaned back reflexively, her knife landed in his knee with a hard punch, "This little piggy became corned ham, and this little piggy did not…" With a slinking sound, the knife ripped free, she drew it up to Ali's throat, "Do you want to be able to squeal as you run alllllll the way home, or do you want to be made into bacon?"

" _Venus_ …"

"He's at the reactor! There's a bomb there… he's _going_ to use it… We're _all_ dead, so do it! It'd be more merciful than that _gas_ … This room had an air-tight seal, but you _ruined it_ now!"

Venus rolled her eyes, "You moron, there's a vent right there, that door might be air-tight, but this room isn't exactly hermetic." With a sucker punch under his jaw with the hand wielding the knife, she dropped Ali into an unpleasant dreamland.

"He's lying about how to get there." Jonny said after a long moment, the comfort of Race's hand on his arm made the tremors half as obvious with a look.

"I'm sure there's more to it too, Race, let me see that shoe, I want to borrow that blast cap."

He gave her a dirty look, "What the heck happened to listening to me?"

"Oh? We weren't playing good cop, bad cop? My faux pas." She smiled, Race was hardly convinced, he also wasn't sure why her eyes looked off but thought better than to ask. "Well, well! That's enough C4 to do in a stubborn lock."

"…What about the sarin?" Jonny frowned.

"Sarin? Jonny, the only thing on him is C4 and a charge." Venus didn't like how he curled his arms tightly around his own waist at that.

"Right, I think it's time we head over to that reactor…" Race said trying to pull Jonny from his own gloom, his arm still connecting to Jonny's left triceps.

"…He said if he died it would kill us _both_ … Rage locked me in here with him, _knowing_ what he was…"

"Well, your best weapon in the room would've been hand-to-hand melee, and that blast cap could've made you bleed out, which is a lot nicer than sarin, all the same."

Jonny shook his head, "Race—do you have a phone? I have to call Jess and Hadji… I might be able to tank their detonators, but they can brick their reactors and that'll _really_ hurt them."

"That's the spirit!" Venus smirked, "Go big and then go home."

"Race, there's another thing…" Jonny looked at his bodyguard. "There's an access port under this panel, if we can _move_ it, I think we can get into that room, otherwise we'll have to look for another way in."

"Alright, do you think you can help me with that?" Race eyed the teenager and more precisely his leg.

"I'm sure going to try."

Venus looked between the two, "Ugh, heavy lifting… I don't _technically_ think I'm cleared for that, but… if I _must_."

"Thanks, sis." Jonny smiled at the girl.

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Catching Benton's arm, Darren pulled the redhead toward a doorway and out of the open as a handful of guards meandered back from rounds.

Darren touched his finger to his mouth and pulled his pistol, Benton nodded and drew his piece as well.

In a fast strike, both men rendered the two guards unconscious via pistol-whips and pulled them toward the doorway. While Benton holstered his, Darren cleared the room connected by the door, another closet space, what the hell was this place, Linens & Things?

Both men caught sight of a shadow hanging just at the periphery before exchanging a look and continuing toward it. Darren caught himself signaling in ASL only to realize Benton probably didn't speak the language. Instead he whispered in a low voice, "I'll go first, hang back five feet."

Benton nodded and hugged against the wall as instructed.

In a fast pivot, Darren shoved his gun against the chest of the man on the other side of the corner, his other hand catching his wrist and pulling him forward.

The man's other hand shot up in a gesture of surrender before following the pull to behind the corner.

"Oh my, you caught me. I _hadn't_ counted on that at _all._ " He said, craning his neck to gesture the ten people he'd put down himself, though his take-downs were lethal if the blood-smears said anything.

"…The infamous Allen…" Darren said, more for Benton's sake.

"In the flesh," he grinned the cat's canary. "My, is that a grey hair I detect?"

Darren's mood soured. "You went through an _awful_ lot of awful for this, what the hell do you want?"

"Hmm, no Hallmark Moment for our little family reunion? By now I know you know." He shot Darren a wilting look to suggest he re-aim his gun, the gun didn't move. "Always so pleasant, just like Phil said you'd be… Dr. Quest, you're familiar with my work, at least the _late_ Rick Cobin's work, it was a bit heavy handed, I know, but theatrical flourish has always been so much more fun."

Darren brought his pistol back and uncocked the hammer. "So you're really working _against_ Rage and Gaia?"

"From the inside, yes, though the Gaia angle has been long-hand." His tongue darted, "Speaking of hands, how's Alex's? I felt just _dreadful_ when I had to break it but if I didn't they were going to break his neck."

"Well there was that one other option to just have _not kidnapped them at all_." Darren suggested, furious.

"Not actually an option, I had to convince them that they couldn't handle Alpha kids, and the best way I could do that was to target those two with the best chances of escaping and least chances of murdering people I needed still alive." Allen shrugged, "I take that to mean he's well, swell! So, on to business at hand… I need your help. Rage has a stockpile of a nerve agent, he's calling it sarin, but it isn't. Sarin has an antidote, the stuff he has? Not so much, Dr. Quest, you remember the formulation I take it?"

The man crossed his arms, "I do indeed."

"Problem is, R&D solutions like that don't always have cures added as a line-item. On a plus, it's _less_ lethal than sarin, but a major minus is that as much as they'll use, it won't matter. I need to stop him, and I need to get Ellie out, she's been stuck here long enough."

"…Giselle Arquette?" Benton asked, unsure of the implications.

"Yes, her papa and big brother are quite worried about her, and her mom knows she's stopped drinking the kool aid. You've been around Rage, you probably know how that's a death-sentence. I've been staving it off by keeping her useful to Gaia, but the in-fighting about how to profit from the world going to hell in a hand-basket is making that quite problematic. I couldn't just spirit her away, though, if I did—I'd blow my own op, and as you can probably surmise, the scale was bigger than that."

"Who decided to pull in that Hussein guy?" Darren asked levelly, he needed to gauge the odd-ball, he seemed the definition of a loose cannon.

"That was Hussein's own bidding. His ties with Gaia which had made ties to Rage's Cult made it a worthwhile op to see what intel he could glean from Rage in prison, but then they hatched their own plot to escape instead. He was gaming the system and if I made him for it, I'd have outted myself, and as we've already covered—it was bigger than that. Unfortunately, Rage decided they needed some cosmic coin-toss on how virtuous this venture is, that's what Ali and he cooked up—a purity test of sorts, to which, there haven't been any alarms so your boy passed. Not that Rage will play fair, he'll just change the prophecy as he goes. How're my nieces?" He slapped Darren on the back.

Darren swung a fist before he could think the better of it, the blow connected hard into Allen's jaw, though he hardly seemed fazed by the strike.

"Really, now? I thought we were past that." Allen tsked at the brunette, "Here you are, almost 40 and you're still taking swipes at your brother?"

"You leave my daughter _alone_. I don't give a shit how important you think this is or anything else for that matter!"

A boisterous laugh burst through the air, echoing off the empty stones in the bare-bones room. "I don't take orders from _you_. But you'll follow mine if you want to get back his son and prevent all of our most untimely and uncomfortable deaths."

"After this is over, I am going to mop the floor with you, just so we're clear."

Allen laughed, "You might try, but I promise you're not going to succeed."

Darren holstered his gun, "Lead the way, asshole."

"After this _is_ over, I would like to catch up, just us boys… I think it's time."

An eyebrow shot up, "Oh sure, let's go camping in the woods, I'll bring the shovel."

"My god, could you two _focus_! You're both convinced this is critical and yet you're acting like it's anything _but_." Benton shot, "My _son_ is with a maniac…"

With a flamboyant hand wave, Allen pulled out a walkie-talkie, "Ellie, my poppet, could you tell me if you have eyes on Mr. Quest yet?"

"I do, there are three of them in the control room, Mr. Bannon dealt with the first wave of security, the others have went to work on disarming the device."

"Oh wonderful, they're ahead of schedule! Keep out of sight lest they'll think you're unfriendly. Have you seen where Rage and your mother have gotten to?"

"No sir, that worries me, I'd have thought they'd be nearby."

Benton nodded, "How familiar are you with this facility, Allen?"

"Intimately, why?" He smiled toothily.

"Is there a sound system? An intercom?"

"Of course, how else would he blast his sermons ad nauseum to the masses?"

"Darren, we need to get to the kids, but there's a detour we have to make first. We can draw Rage to where we want him."

"And that would be where?" He looked at the auburn-haired scientist.

"…Ideally somewhere we can corner him. Mr. Cobin," he started.

"Please, call me Allen, we're all family here." He goaded.

"…Allen," he said in a bristle, "where can we corner him, what room doesn't have multiple egress points?"

"Well he's hardly going to go to into a broom closet, but the room he set Jonny up in only has two exit paths, and frankly, he'd be surrounded."

Benton winced, that was not his ideal, "Is there _anywhere else_?"

"…Afraid not, old sport. This place is an abandoned factory, not an office building, most of the rooms were converted into living quarters and the maniac was surprisingly regimented about following building code laws. He seemed worried about the hazards of fire."

With the new objective in mind, the three made way to the comm center.

"How long have you been working this angle?" Darren asked in a low whisper to Allen.

"I've worked deep ops the better part of twenty years, this one has been on again, off again for a decade as Gaia shifted meanings, it hasn't always been something we thought had to be shut down, but we've always needed more agents in it, it snow-balled. But it's been worth it, I've been able to curb organized crime quite well from inside."

"…Organized crime?" His eyebrow rose.

"Oh, did you just think Oleski was playing nice?" He laughed, it was too rich, "you may well not believe it, but I've been your guardian angel ever since… well, that doesn't matter."

Darren scowled, "Since _when_ asshole?"

"Well if you're asking so nicely, I had to make sure your gung-ho ass made it out of the fire ever since you decided to return to the world of the living."

"Bullshit. I'd have known."

Benton let out a groan, "Would you _can_ your family melodrama until we've _dealt_ with this?" He dialed Jessie's cellphone.

"Dr. Quest! Is everything alright?"

"Jessie, we need your help."

"I know, Jonny already has Hadji and me working on that virus, I'm running it now—"

"That's great, but I need something else, we need to draw Rage in…"

Jessie let out a knowing sound, "Oh! Venus's contingency, huh? What's the plan?"

Benton's voice hung with an authority in the airways, "We need to make him return to the room he sealed Jonny in, he _isn't_ in there now, but it's the easiest location to contain him until authorities can move in."

"Are there cameras?"

He looked at Allen, waiting for that 'intimate' knowledge to come bubbling forth.

"There are, but _he_ doesn't use them." Allen mentioned breezily, "That Hussein fellow is probably still in the room, though."

"Hussein…?" Jessie asked, unsure of who that was.

"Ali," Darren provided, which by the furious look Benton was shooting his way had been an overstep.

"Rage locked Jonny in with _him_?!"

"Jessie, he escaped. Your father is with him, he's safe, we need you to draw him there. I need you to focus on how to do that. Do you have an idea?"

"..." She took a breath, "…Yeah, Venus's idea isn't too bad, but man oh man, Dr. Quest does your daughter have a mean streak!"

"She gets that from De, that woman can hold a grudge better than a camel can carry a cigarette and sunglasses." He looked around, apparently Benton wasn't into vintage adverts, fuck he could use a smoke to take the edge off, not that he'd dare draw that much attention to himself in theater. "What did she suggest, if you don't mind me asking?"

"She said I should play it like Carla is alive, and incredibly disappointed in him."

Both Darren and Benton looked at each other, "I'd nix the alive angle, he's spiritual enough that dead and disappointed is probably safer for you."

Benton drew Betty Bam-a-lam and set to work connecting the comm-center's radio to read the cell phone signal as a direct line. "It's time to get into position, Jessie, we're counting on you!"

"I'll do my best, Dr. Quest!" Jessie beamed, "Just tell me when to start."

"T-minus five minutes, sync your watch and we'll head into position." Darren offered.

-Chapter 5 JQ-

Jonny looked at the rig and exhaled slowly. "This is _bad_." He looked over at Race, he'd just subdued two guards, blocking a spray of gunfire that unfortunately hit the control panel and destroyed the key-commands. "I think I can disconnect it from its power-source, but if I'm wrong we're going to be at ground zero…"

A knowing look passed between he and Venus, "Well, on the plus side, you're either right or it's not your problem anymore." She shrugged, "How can I help?"

"It might not be possible, but if you can dissemble the canister from the blast caps then we'll only be worrying about a bomb instead."

"…On it. We'll need to drop it into the sewers to shield it from a blast, that's probably the only place that would contain it."

"You two really need to be more positive." Race critiqued; unhappy at the morbidity of the topic at hand. "For starters, it's a lovely day, the air is still, and that crisp autumn air is refreshing…"

"…That actually is good, it diminishes the radius. But it'll linger, so anyone there is as dead as we'll be."

Race's eyes narrowed, "Aren't you a ray of sunshine."

Venus let out a laugh as she pulled out a knife to get to work with, "That's exactly what dad thinks…" She pulled off the casing and saw the pressure-plates and drew a breath. "Damn, challenge accepted."

Jonny called back, "It's a complex circuit in here, do you have any scissors or pliers?"

"I've got a few good knives, will that do?"

"It'll have to."

Venus pulled out a kit of four, "Race, can you give these to Jonny?"

"Yeah, kids, is there anything I can do to help?" He looked at Venus thinking those pressure plates might be something he could assist in.

"I could use extra hands." She mentioned, "See that one just above my left hand? Think you can keep it stable while I disconnect the wire housing?"

"Sure."

The overhead comms crackled to life just as Race was approaching. "Daddy, why are you doing this?"

Race's hand jumped at the sound of Jessie filling the airways. " _CAREFUL, dammit_!" Venus hissed.

"Sorry, I didn't expect that." Race chided himself, that was one hell of a flub. "I'm good, I've got it." He put his hands on the edges to keep the pressure plates separated as they'd need to stay to not activate the switch.

"I'd hope so…" Venus scowled, working quickly to disconnect the wires.

As the transmission continued, Jonny could feel the beads of sweat slide down his neck in a tickle. He shut his eyes trying to forget the hands that had moved over him, he shook his head violently, now was not the time to process that. He had to work on destroying the circuit board.

He cut three wires and let out a shaky breath, the easy part was done, but that timer was still going. "The time is now T-minus 17 minutes and counting." Jonny announced.

"Daddy how could you be so cruel, I _like_ Jonny! Why would you hurt him like that?"

Jonny's eyes went wide, he felt nauseated as Jessie spoke.

"You have to help him; I'll never be able to forgive you if anything bad happens to him, daddy! You were trying to _help people._ That's _not_ helping anyone! It's _cruel_."

He had to pause as his hands started to shake, tears prickling in his eyes. "Damn it, Quest, focus…" he whispered to himself, "I've got to get this stopped—I've got it! I just have to short _this_ out… Where's the live line?"

His nimble fingers worked in finding the active charge and tracing it back, that counter was going to be how to fried this whole system… or so he had hoped, there were too many decoys to contest with. He had to think of another route.

The sound of scuffling was getting louder just outside the room, he really hoped there weren't _more_ guards.

"Carla? Carla where are you? Jonny? Are you here? I've come to _help_ you…"

Race toed Venus to warn her he had to stop acting as a safety for the pressure plates. She gave a singular nod, he withdrew his hands and drew his pistol.

"You can't use a gun, it's too sensitive in here, use the knife…" Venus gestured to her kit at her side, still laden with several she'd kept for her own use.

He nodded, re-holstering his piece as he picked up a bowing knife, the lightweight material had a nice ergo grip but he could tell the alloy was strong and it looked sharp enough to shave with. He was a bit envious of her kit if he was being honest with himself.

He maneuvered toward the entryway. At the sounds of a continued scuffle and struggle, the trap door began to fold inward. Race shouldered it hard to keep Rage from making it into the inner sanctuary. The burnt hand tried to reach through, anyway.

"Jonny, I've come to _save_ you, to _purge_ this evil from you… come, you must see! You _must_ …"

Race swung the knife in his hand and sliced it through the burnt hand. He was disappointed with how little of an effect that seemed to have on Rage, the man didn't even wince, what the hell?

"Race—he's covered in burns, he probably has _severe_ neuropathy… you're going to have to do better than _that._ " Venus suggested from her angle. She returned her gaze to the several remaining pressure sensors, she needed to deactivate two more to have a clear path to slide out the canister.

"T-minus 7 minutes…" Jonny called out in warning.

"You _are_ in here…" Rage called back in response, more sounds of a struggle echoed through the room as he shoved at the door.

"Race! I've got it!" Venus called back, she pulled the canister gingerly from the connections, he looked at the teen, her face was ashen as she warily handled the container with enough nerve agent to wipe out a city block _without_ the assistance of a detonator to spread it. "It's really heavy. Help me. Trust them, because even if he gets in here, that's secondary if this falls…"

"Alright, I'm coming!" Race shoved up at the trap door again to keep Ezekiel off balance before returning to Venus's station, he helped her pull it through the narrow opening she'd worked open, the canister was easily 70 pounds from the heavy tank and then the deadly pressurized liquid it stored inside.

As he set it gently on the ground, he watched the teen begin to pant from the strain of holding the device for the past 8 minutes while she worked it free from wires, connectors, and cabling. Her arms twitched angrily. "I'll get the door, think you can ditch that?"

He nodded, "Be careful, you look like you're running at 30% now."

Venus laughed darkly, "That's still a good 29% more than he can handle." With a slight sway, she headed to the trap door and angled her body to brace against it using her legs. Her knees bent slightly as the door was slammed against.

"Jonny, how's it going?" Race called before making his run.

"It's going _quickly_ , we've got 3 more minutes…" Jonny fingered a power cable, he could stretch it to reach the panel, but he'd only have one shot at this. He looked for more options, a charge like that would work, but it was also going to sting like _hell_ , if not worse. "…I've got a working solution, but it's not a _great_ working solution." He called up.

"Race is making his sprint." Venus informed, she pressed her hands behind her ears to help enhance the sounds coming from above her, with gusto she called up, "Is he restrained yet, you slow codger!"

She heard a rapid two-tap slow one-tap to signal a yes, she detangled her sore legs from the trap door, it pressed open as Darren slipped through.

"About time, what took you?" Venus muttered, she felt exhausted, as her eyes cast upward she shot back up to red alert, "What the hell?!"

Scrambling to her feet, she saw Allen and Ellie, Rage below them, momentarily subdued as they worked on securing him with zipties.

The lights cut out, five seconds later, the auxiliary lights powered on as Jonny's legs twitched then fell flat.

"Oh shit!" Darren rushed toward the teen and hoisted him from beneath the panel, he slid out limp as well-cooked spaghetti, a charred mark on his right hand accompanied by a smaller charred mark on his left arm told the story of an electrical discharge. "Hey, snap out of it!" He ordered while digging for a pulse.

Venus's eyes went wide as her mouth dropped open.

"Venus— _guard the prisoner_." Darren barked, desperate to get her out of the room, he was glad in her shocked state she nodded ton concur and made her way straight up through the trap door, the sound of a palm-strike to something hard, probably Zeke's mask if he had to guess, told him she had decided to make new friends, "Benton—get down here! She's got it." Darren ordered while maneuvering Jonny to a flat surface.

He began chest compressions aggressively while he started to hum the song Lucky Twice to keep his thrusts at 100 bpm.

Benton slipped through the opening in time to see Darren start the compressions. "JONNY!"

"Save it—he needs rescue breathing!" Darren disrupted his hum to instruct Benton, he resumed the song as he continued the compressions, the unnatural give to the kid's chest made him almost feel guilty, he'd probably bruised four ribs at a minimum, hell, he may even have cracked some.

Every ten compressions, roughly 3 seconds, Benton forced his breath into the teen, his own hands busying themselves to seal egress points so the air would be forced into his lungs and not right back out his nose or mouth, his other hand leaned Jonny's neck back to give him a direct pathway, his fingers curled around toward his carotids, desperate to find the return of a pulse.

"Anything?!" Darren said with a pause, "I'm so lucky, lucky… I'm so lovely, lovely…" he continued to himself to keep the pace. As he continued his ministrations, Jonny's body hissed out the air Benton had so kindly force-fed.

"No—not yet…" Benton said then took in a deep lungful of air before exchanging it with the teen again.

"You can fool yourself, I promise it will help, now every single day I just want to hear you say it…" Darren sang out while forcefully compressing the teen's chest. "…Don't ever stop, through night and day, the words to say are… I'm so lucky, lucky, I'm so lovely, lovely…"

As Benton pulled back to draw another deep breath, Jonny drew in a raspy breath. "I've got a pulse!"

Darren leaned back on his heels, " _Finally_ , damn…" He panted out thankfully. He eyed the blue orbs as they fluttered open, the cloud of unfamiliarity readily apparent.

Benton pressed Jonny's head back to keep his airway unobstructed. "Jonny, you're okay. I've got you, you're okay…" he reassured.

"…Dad…?" He rasped, as he blinked more and more awake. His eyes scanned the room, he let out a low groan, "…Owww."

With a grimace, Darren tapped the kid's shoulder, "You bruised some ribs, don't go trying to sit up. Trust me, you won't like that feeling." He was answered in a faint set of head-bobs.

"Benton, I can carry him, strap him to my back… Jonny, you think you could hang on if I did that, yeah?"

"…Where…?" Jonny blinked his fatigue, "…Did Jess… the virus… Hadj?"

"It worked." Benton offered, he dug through his own pack to find a set of zipties, not particularly eager to use them on his _son_ and yet knowing the necessity given his state. "You did it, son. You stopped him."

"… _We_ … stopped 'im… where's sis…?"

"She's upstairs entertaining our hosts. Of which, we've overstayed our welcome, Race, you think you can make sure they're happy little clams and then be a _peach_ and send my daughter down here?"

"A peach, huh?" He shot back, as he reentered the room looking over the boy, more questions in that than they had the time for. "Doc, I stowed that nerve agent under a sewer grate, we'll need to get that to the proper facilities to destroy it."

Benton nodded, "We'll worry about that once we regroup outside. We still don't know where Arquette is."

As Venus dropped back through the trap door, she shot another glare at Ezekiel. "That nut-job is contained, what about Gaia?"

"…Allen cleaned house. Sweetie, I need you to run point with Race."

She drew her pistol, " _Yes sir_ ," she declared in a forceful bravado.

Jonny let out a loopy, wispy laugh, "…That really does sound bratty…" he winced as his ribs complained about that whole _breathing_ thing.

With a sad glance back, she nodded, "I'll find us a clear path. Race, I want my bowie back." She reached her hand out expectantly and wasn't disappointed when he returned it with a strong slap into her hand.

"I would too, it's a damn good blade."

Venus smirked, "I know, right?" She spun from the room, looking left and right, she knelt low and darted cattycorner toward the right and scanned before waving over the others.

Locking eyes with the teenager, Benton added a parting, "Scout, good luck and be careful." He wondered if he imagined the blush as she quickly pivoted before he could confirm the odd reaction.

"Luck is the fall-back for the unskilled." Venus offered with her particular flourish, she chambered a round into her Baretta. In a similar dive as she'd done earlier, she swept the hallway for any unknown players.

Edging back to the wall, she nodded toward Race and made her way further into the factory. Her eyes continually trailed back to the remainder of her party as she kept a buffer of twenty feet. At a corner, she held her gun-hand at a right angle to halt them, gesturing it into a low crouch as she slipped closed to the corner to increase her peripheral view. Her right hand tucked to her right ear, pressing it forward to listen more closely to what was happening just out of sight. She pushed her gun hand back to warn them to take cover and dropped low. Drawing a smoke bomb from her pocket, she tucked around the corner and lobbed it a good fifteen feet at the opening of another hallway. As it blew off lilac-colored smoke that reeked of coconut, the guards pivoted and opened fire into the diversion.

From her low angle, she fired four shots and tucked back behind and signaled for them to catch up quickly. She thumbed to the room the others had been standing in front of.

At the sound of additional gunshots coming from the smoked-out hallway, Darren obliged her request, pressing his back into the corner to guard his payload.

The sound of labored breathing on the back of his neck was making him feel particularly expedited as Darren eyed the room. A handful of bodies tastefully decorated the space, red accent-walls really made it all the more inviting. "Shit, this is becoming a blood-bath." He whispered toward Benton, "Where's Bannon?"

He shirked toward the door suggestively, "Helping with the clean-up, most likely."

Darren shook his head, "Once we clear the next two hallways it'll be a straight shot back to where we came in."

"I gathered." Benton looked back toward the door, he could see motion under the door in time to see Race slip in.

"Come on, we've gotta move."

Darren and Benton tucked out the door to Race's urgings, "Where did she get up to?"

"She's laying a trail doubling back in." Race whispered, still palming his glock. "There's a pretty sizeable welcome-committee left."

Punctuating the sentiment, a barrage of shots and screams carried through the walls and vents.

"What are you doing?! We're on _your_ side!"

The questions were cut short with more gunfire.

Looking between themselves, Race turned toward the action.

"Darren, can you get him out?" Benton asked cautiously.

The nod that answered him was enough to send him hot on Race's heels. "Good, we'll rendezvous at the bikes."

-Chapter 5 JQ-

With a frown, Venus stared at the Mexican Stand-off before her, Dr. Arquette and Ali Hussein were each seeming to vie for where to aim while Allen and Giselle Arquette seemed to know just where _their_ allegiances were though, Ellie's gun honed on Ali, Allen's on Dr. Arquette.

"So eet comes to this." Arquette drawled, "A stand-off, but I do not fear death." She spun her gun toward Giselle.

"That's real good, you can go first." Allen recommended, volleying several shots into the woman just as she went to open fire.

Giselle fired her own set of shots into Ali before he could react.

Not one to outstay her own welcome, Venus took a step back only to freeze as she felt metal against her back. She let her eyes trace back, "What do we have here? A _lost little lamb_ …"

Venus tried not to groan to herself, she _knew_ she should've shot the bastard dead.

"Ezekiel, thank goodness you're alright." Allen offered a polite volley, he and Giselle rounded the corner, "The late doctor was vying for a coup."

The shark-smile he shot through Venus made her skin crawl.

"Drop the gun." Rage ordered.

"Hmm, I thought about that, I really did, and you know what I decided?" Venus asked, her eyes not leaving Allen's, "No." She hooked her elbow around Rage's shotgun and shoved it away from her before turning to blast him squarely in the mask, not surprised that it was plated, but disappointed all the same that she hadn't redecorated his skull, she pulled the shotgun down with her arm as he fired, the shell ricocheted across the floor and planted into the wall.

With a click of her trigger, she was unhappily informed that her Baretta had jammed on the rapid fire. Shoving off, she made a sprint to the next cover point, certain of two things— she wasn't going to outrun being shot at, and she was about to get shot in the back.

The gunshot rang out, by time she rounded the corner she had to reevaluate the previous assessment. There was no _way_ two of them would have missed her. She'd been within ten feet!

"What is this treachery?!" Zeke sputtered as his lung filled with his own fluids.

"We at the bureau like to consider what you did 'treason.'" Allen explained, "On high."

Venus quickly went to work unjamming her Baretta as she kept her eyes pinned to where she'd entered.

"Oh poppet, you're out of time."

"Shit! _Shit_ …" She mumbled, still working to unjam the gun, finally abandoning the idea, she drew her bowie only for Allen to not enter the doorway at all.

"You need to get out of here, I'm not about to hand over all that hard work for your _dad_ to swoop in and take _credit_ for."

Her eyes narrowed, "You leave him _out of this_ you son of a bitch!"

Allen let out a scoff, "Oh poppet, thems are fighting words, and you're fresh out of fight."

"Wanna test that hypothesis?" She bit back, she drew a second knife just in case. She looked down in time to see a smoke bomb start to discharge, "Shit!"

"Run along now. We'll catch up later."

Venus kicked the smoke bomb to the opposite corner then rounded the door, she sailed the knife through the air, Allen dodged it aptly and shot her an impatient look.

"I don't have time to make snowbunnies with you today, _get lost_."

Her eyes shot wide at the dangerous tone in his voice, sensing where she'd fall in that fight, she led her own charge to sprint back toward where she'd led the others—with an easy pathway out. She near collided with Race and Dr. Quest on the corner, and grabbed her chest as she halted the knife from making a strike.

Race and Benton locked eyes and made fast work grabbing both of her wrists and pulling her back toward the exit.

"It's time to go, come on!" Race called. Running at a slightly too-large of a gait, Venus was tripping on herself by time they slipped out of the open and into a very well ventilated supply closet.

Gasping, she pulled her hand back from Race, her hand fished to her chest over her side as she grimaced. "What the _hell_?"

Benton loosened his grip on her wrist but didn't let go, "We need to leave. Rage activated a fail-safe."

" _Another one?!_ What is that, five?!"

"Does it particularly matter how many there are besides one left?" Benton asked almost sarcastically.

"Touché," Venus agreed, doubled over despite the urgency. She was surprised to feel her arm sling over the redhead's shoulder and a hand curve around her waist as he hoisted her back up to standing.

With a much gentler pace, the trio made their ways to the motor-blockade.

"About time, princess! It's not like you to be fashionably _late._ "

Venus pouted as she locked eyes with her dad, "My Baretta jammed on me." She took a shaky few steps to her dad before launching into his waist to give him a big hug.

He ruffled her hair, "I _should've_ given you Betty Bam-a-lam, sorry about that… you okay?"

"No! I feel awful. My pain killers wore off _hours_ ago!"

Darren laughed, "Well, chew on your next dose, you riding with me?" He asked rhetorically, like there was another option, though she readily nodded to agree to it.

He glanced back at Benton, "Shall we reconvene at our abode?"

Benton set a sad smile, "I think we've overstayed our welcome, we'll see you at Thanksgiving, and I politely request we leave the terrorists off the invite list."

"Well that seems mean to _not_ invite Venus, but…" Darren winked at his daughter as he dodged her swipe, her reaction time was significantly slower than he'd have hoped for. "…we'll see you there."

-End.-


End file.
